


Teen Wolfish

by evilsupergirl



Series: Teen Wolfish [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canonical Child Abuse, Drama, Fourth Wall abuse, Horror, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Slow Build, crackish humor, lots of death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-20 09:29:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 106,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilsupergirl/pseuds/evilsupergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott McCall gets bit, gets genetically enhanced, and then his life goes to hell in a hand basket, except where the smell of muffins is involved. </p><p>Read about Scott and company facing hunters, wolf monsters, lizard monsters, swamp monsters, evil principals, evil uncles, evil aunts, evil people in general, murder, lots of murder, discovering new sexual identities, parental issues, and still having to not fail at school, you know, if you want to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dramatic Start

**Author's Note:**

> Just to be clear, I like to write with as much canon material as possible/as fitting to the story, so there will be and is a lot of elements from the show in the story; but it's still basically its own story. So, if you haven't seen the show, at all (why are you reading this?), it technically contains a butt-load of spoilers, but I mix things around so much that you won't know what "really" happens in the show. So you'll know, but you won't know, does that make sense? Well, read at your own risk and enjoy^^

Okay, here we go. A five paragraph essay on one of the major themes from Of Mice and Humans. Was “stereotyping” one? What was that word she used? Ah. Prejudice.

Scott McCall smiled as he closed the word document and opened a window to the world wide web. In the Google box, he typed “prejudice Of Mice and Humans” he then spent the next few minutes copying and pasting the opinions and ideas of others. He was not plagiarizing. He would rewrite everything in his own words. He just didn’t want to take the time to come up with his own ideas and opinions. The internet can be quite helpful like that. 

After a half a page of small sized font words filled with enough information for him to slap together the minimum of twenty-five sentences of his own creation, he saved and closed everything. That was enough homework for one night. After all, today is Wednesday, and the paper isn’t due until Friday. Plenty of time. 

He sauntered over to his bed, only to remember that his tv is still broken. The saunter turned into a lumber until he laid all the way down on his bed, his boredom sinking down with him. He had two choices, to stay and do nothing, or to make the journey all the way downstairs to the living room’s TV. What to do? Well, there probably wasn’t anything good on anyway. And of course there was always option C. He dug his cell phone out of his pocket and hit the contact to a well used number.

“WASSSS-UP?” He greeted.

“Dude, not now.” His best friend said.

“What’s up?”

“Shhh... okay, so there’s been another Werewolf sighting, and I just got the location through my Dad’s line. This is serious. This is not a prank. You know what, I’ll pick you up in five.”

“You’re the best.” Scott sat up, feeling quite energized now. A Werewolf sighting of all things. Sure, he has always dreamed of such a thing, what boy hasn’t? In fact, it was the only thing he liked about living in a small town surrounded by woods and wide open spaces of nothingness and the occasional horse ranch. He thought he had met a vampire once, but he turned out to be just a really pale guy with a biting fetish. It had led to one of many jokes about Scott really being an EH (Enhanced Human) and that he had the innate and enhanced ability to attract homosexuals, even the creepy ones. 

He knew it was more than a little moronic to be galavanting through the woods to get a peek at a person with the potential to rip his throat out. However, Scott, and many other around the world, held the belief that Werewolves were just a deeply misunderstood variety of humankind; that their bark was literally worse than their bite. Though there was that myth that their bite actually enabled, generated, or passed on the genetic code for the enhancement. Making it the only type of EH that CAN be passed on in non biological (sexy times) ways. 

Scott’s phone rang again. It was Stiles, his best and only friend. Stiles was an EH. A pretty common one too. Scott always found it funny whenever Mr. Stillinski would call his, genetically altered with high intelligence, son an idiot. Because nine times out of ten, it was true; they do some really dumb stuff together. 

Tonight would not be one of them. Scott could hear the disappointment in his friends voice before his mind put the words together in a comprehensible sentence. It was a false alarm. The “werewolf” was nothing more than a big normal, with not once ounce of human DNA, dog. A big one, but still just a wild, lost, tramp of a dog. Scott ended the phone call feeling even worse than before. He had been all pumped up and primed for adventure, only for the chance to slip away do to an unfortunate Fido sighting. Honestly, who would even let their dogs out in a fenced in yard, at night, when real rumors of Werewolves existed? Not that he had ever heard of any wolf person on dog violence before. 

With the effects from the adrenaline rush still in his system, Scott pulled on his red zip hoodie and the black shoes that his mother made him buy as a bargain outlet store (in which he rebelled by only wearing them occasionally, at night... in his defense they squish his toes) and headed downstairs. Thankfully, his mom had the night shift. He had no idea what excuse he would of had to make up to get out of the house. Once the crisp air of an autumn night hit his face, he picked a direction and went for it. Perhaps a walk around the block would do him well. The full moon made everything easy to see. It also made Scott think about the Werewolf he wouldn’t be seeing tonight. Even with a full moon, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that he would have a safe and werewolf-free walk. His life is simply never that exciting. 

Ah, but what was this, who was that? There was someone walking up ahead and across the street from Scott. He could only make out their hooded outline. Whoever it was, he or she, most likely a he, was huge. Not bulky, just gigantic in a tall sense. The person stopped and glanced back. Scott also stopped. The man, who was indeed in a green hoodie and dark colored pants may have been looking at him, or the ground in front of him, or at the lamppost over to the right. Or maybe, just maybe, he was looking at whatever made that... angry dog sound that came from behind Scott. Oh please, please be the wayward Fido. 

Scott’s eyes moved more than his head did. He didn’t even get a good look at what was behind him, the man or boy or teenager ahead of him began to run and whatever was behind Scott ran passed him and after the boy. The kid only made it a few paces before being violently tackled to the ground as what Scott could only guess was a large, angry dog or perhaps a small bear in a leather jacket. The man bear pounced on the guy’s back, and then, with his arm in his mouth, started dragging him down the street. It all happened so fast that the attacker/victim pair was already halfway down the street by the time the young man started screaming. They had rounded the corner by the time Scott was running after them. 

Stiles likes to claim that Scott has a hero complex. It might have started with the squirrel that was stuck in the tree. And Yes, Scott knows squirrels are suppose to be in trees, but this one was so small and it keep attempting to climb down. And there was that time that Stiles got stuck in a tree. Instead of calling for help, like he should have done, Scott spent an hour trying to get his friend down with various stacks of books, and pots, ropes made of bed sheets and curtains, until finally climbing up the tree himself to rescue his friend. This only led to having both boys stuck in the tree. 

There was no squirrel or tree or Stiles, but Scott felt himself running, trying to answer the desperate young man’s cries for help. When he rounded the corner, he wished he had picked different shoes, his toes screamed at him, and he couldn’t hear any real screams any longer or see any movement. There was no way a dog dragging a grown young man could run that fast. He must have gone behind one of the houses. Still, he should be able to hear the man at least. Scott’s eyes strained in the darkness and when he looked back the other way, he almost ran into somebody.

“Ah!” His scream didn’t even startle the other man. 

“Good evening, I’m Peter, what’s your name?” Had he just imagined a guy screaming and getting dragged away from a ferocious man shaped dog? Did he just sprint down the street for nothing?

“Huh..I - I’m Scott, did you see-”

“Well, Scott, don’t you think it’s a little late to be running outside?”

“Huh?” 

“I mean, who knows what kinds of things could be lurking or running around on a night like this.” 

“Like this?” Who says Styles is the only one who can eloquently hold a conversation. Scott may not be positive of what he may or may not have seen, but he knew that he needed to take a few steps away from this man. Best case scenario, he had just run into another creepy gay man. Tis his life.

“Like this.” The man smiled. But it wasn’t his mouth that Scott was drawn to, not yet. It was his eyes, his glowing, red eyes. Then he noticed, with the help of the moonlight, the white, bright, sharp teeth. No, not teeth, fangs. 

For all the thinking Scott had done on the subject previously, he mind wasn’t able to piece together the word “werewolf” for the being in front of him until he felt a sharp pain in his side, and darkness overtook his everything. Oh god, he was dying, being killed to be exact.

Oh light, light, fangs, WEREWOLF!

Scott sprang up into a sitting position and clutched his side. Then he lifted his shirt. There was nothing. There were no... bite marks. Had it been a dream? It would explain why he’s waking up in his bed and not on the sidewalk down the street, bleeding out onto the concrete. But it had felt so real. When had he fallen asleep? And more importantly, since when did he fall asleep with his shoes on? Even more importantly, there may not be blood on his body, but that sure as hell wasn’t a ketchup stain on his shirt. So what, what the hell just happened to him!

His first, second, and every proceeding thought after that, as he made his way to school that day via his bike, was really just a word. And the word wasn’t “doggy”. He hadn’t been bitten by a dog. He hadn’t been bitten and miraculously healed overnight from a dog bite. He had read about it in his history book, under the topic of controversial consequences of the human genetics revolution. He couldn’t remember the whole story, but a Dr. Insane Dude thought of mixing wolf DNA strands with humans in order to gain some of the canine’s keener qualities. What he got was a bunch of mass murderers with deadly abilities mixed with kinder people being stigmatized as monsters. Hence the creation of anti and pro wolf person organizations. He was a member of the latter. Or at least, he planned to be once he was old enough to vote. 

Heck, they may let him in early since he may already be a-

“Werewolf.” Said a familiar voice suddenly next to him. The voice of his best friend.

“Huh?”

“And we missed it. Last night, there were more sightings after the false one. This one had like a whole pack, like four of them all running together in our neighborhood. Down our streets. Can you believe it?”

“No,” Wait, was he really planning on not telling his best friend? “I mean yeah, I do, I was there.”

“Say what?”

“I was there, except we weren’t running, well, we were, but it was more like chasing, well I was really running after the guy who was being chased, and then he was being dragged, and that’s when I started with the running, but then when I got to the corner -”

“Before class starts, Scott, I didn’t take my meds today.”

“I ran into a guy that bit me.” Scott pulled up his shirt. Stiles tilted his body sideways for a closer look. 

“You’re an asshole. Though I am impressed by your creativity. May want to brush up on your story telling though, it was a bit choppy.”

“I’m not making this up, he bit me and now the mark’s gone, but there was blood on my shirt.”

“Scott, give it up, I’m not buying it, at most, you got bit by a creepy pervert, which isn’t that weird for you, it was late last night, right?” Stiles had lost his patience with the story and with standing in one area, in general, so he started to head towards their classroom.

“A pervert with red eyes?” That stopped him. That turned him. Now Scott had every bit of his best friend’s attention.

“Trick of the light?”

“What light, it was at night. And he had sharp, I mean sharp teeth.” Scott would know, he felt them break into his skin, his body.

“Dental issues.”

“And you know I’m telling the truth, you’re getting excited. Your heart is speeding up, I can hear it. I can hear everything.”

“Oh really, then what’s going on in the girls’ locker room?” Someone slammed a locker and Scott flinched. 

“What?”

“Locker slammed.”

“Where?”

“The hallway below us.”

“Dude... you’re a werewolf!” And Stiles couldn’t look more ecstatic at this fact.

“I told you.”

“I know. We need to test this out.”

“What, no. How?”

“Give me a minute.” While Scott watched his friend think, feeling better already for having someone to go through this craziness with, his ears picked up on another conversation nearby. His eyes caught it first. He will always take notice of Allison Argent. She’s the moon in his sky, the howl in his heart. What the hell kind of metaphors were these? Must be a wolf thing. And did Allison just say “wolf”?

“...great the wolves are back. You know, he isn’t going to let us anywhere near an actual fight with one.” Lydia Martin, all pretty hair and skimpy dress, was talking like she plucks food out of her teeth with daggers. 

“Who says he’d know about it?” Allison, the star of many of Scott’s fantasies, was also taking on a frightening tone.

“I’m listening.”

“We both know there’s only one place they would go.” Scott found himself mouthing it at the same time Allison and Lydia said it. 

Hale House. 

Ah yes, Hale House. About a decade back, there was a real wolf hunt in Beacon Hills. And at the center of the drama was the Hale family. There were rumors of howls coming from the house, weird camera flares whenever there was flash photography, the kind that only affected the eyes of a Hale member, and kids from that family who would scrap their knees at school, only to be perfectly fine by the time they would reach the nurse’s office. Still, under the Enhanced Humans Equal Rights Act (EHERA), even if they were found to be Werewolves or “Wolf People”, as long as they harmed no one, no harm or jail time would come to them. But it did. One day, a great fire broke out at Hale house, killing everyone inside, every member of the family. At least, that’s what everyone believes, since no Hale has ever been heard from since.

After that, children, including Stiles and Scott, would be dared to get close to the house that once housed the notorious family. Scott made it up to the front step once, but then he needed his inhaler and had to back out. Oh yeah, his inhaler, did he remember to pack that? 

About a year ago, all daring games had to come to an end. A Mr. Peter Heart wound up buying the property and rebuilding the house. These days, it looks almost as good as it used to. And there really hasn’t been any noteworthy news about that house or it’s past occupants since.

Scott told Stiles what he had heard between Allison and Lydia through notes during their first class. Stiles refused to believe that his beloved Lydia would be involved with something as illegal as werewolf hunting. He was being really difficult today. Even the mention of Hale House didn’t seem to deter his resolve. Scott tried to hear more of anything Allison had to say, but she seemed to be done with talking about hunting or werewolves for now. She would, however, be rooting for Jackson Whittemore at the Lacrosse tryouts today. This day was just getting more and more aggravating. 

He felt like punching someone, anyone, by lunch. Preferably Stiles, who kept trying to get him to listen in on various people’s conversations.

“No, I think I’m getting a headache.”

“But haven’t you always wanted to know what teachers-”

“Stiles!”

“Okay- dude... your eyes.”

“What about them?”

“T-their, ya know, yellow.” Scott could feel his whole body getting warmer as his ears were assaulted with more noise and smells, all that food, at once. Much too much. He jumped to stand and Stiles jerked back in his chair, unsure and a little frightened of how his friend was behaving. What Scott wanted to do was run. The thought crossed his mind, but a large chocolate colored hand ceased all movement. That large hand belonged to a larger arm, which belonged to an even larger man. Someone has been eating his Wheaties since infancy, and that someone was Boyd the Bully. Boyd is his last name and no one dares to call him by his first name. He lost a lot of weight over the summer and yet his new, healthier size still sent fear in his peers and their lunch money in his hands. His fingers dug into Scott’s shoulder. Scott also picked up on the strong smell of dirt and sweat and... wet fur? and oranges coming off of Boyd’s person in waves. 

Up to that point Scott could feel his anger raising, his energy level raising, and the need to lash out at any wrong word or action he witnessed. But once he felt Boyd’s fingers painfully digging into his shoulder to the point where he was sure there were layers of skin cells being sliced through, his anger vanished. It was the opposite of what he was expecting. He felt some panic mixed in with the usual amount of fear, which comes with an encounter with Boyd, creep into his system. In short, he felt like himself again, and it didn’t feel good. 

“You seem a little agitated, McCall.” 

“Which could never be brought on by such a commanding presence like yourself.” Scott didn’t have the balls to make a statement like that. How Stiles still had his, why Boyd hadn’t ripped them away by now, was anyone’s guess. And just when Scott didn’t think this day could get any stranger...

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Scott. Not anymore.” That happened. Maybe with his new fat-less figure, Boyd was trying out new ways to scare the shit out of people. Reverse Intimidation: the new bully speak. 

“Okay... T-thanks, Boyd.” Stiles looked just as confused as Scott felt. So he wasn’t going crazy, someone else was witnessing this for the strangeness that it was.

“Don’t thank me.” Boyd let go of Scott’s shoulder and walked away. He lumbered back to his table, which a year ago he had to himself, which he now shared with the haggard turned hottie, Erica Reyes. That’s a whole new level of strangeness that Scott didn’t want to think about. He looked to Stiles for answers.

“I got nothing.” Was his answer.

“That’s a first.”

“At least your eyes are back to normal.”

“Are they?”

“Maybe Boyd calms the werewolf in you. Maybe you should ask him for his school picture, a memento, to help in the future.” Scott blocked out the more foolish parts of what Stiles was saying. It’s a listening skill that has taken years to perfect. 

“I didn’t feel calm... wait, so this means you believe me?” May be trippy dreams and crazy sounds and feelings aside, were they seriously going to consider the option that he has been turned into a werewolf?

“Where have you been, I’ve been believing you for like half the day already.” There was a minute pause where the words of his friend sunk in between them. In a moment, he had gone from, you think you are, you might be, to, you are. He was a werewolf. Nope, still didn’t sound real. Stiles then went to babbling on all the ways they should test it. There was a battery of tests given to EHs with the high intelligence strand, there had to be similar tests for all other types, even the illegally made, slightly rejected by the masses and somewhat, okay, the very obsessively loved by the minorities of the populace, ones. Though all Stiles could come up with for the moment was attacking his best friend with a silver spoon. 

Isaac Lahey wasn’t in Chemistry class. He usually isn’t in chemistry class, but for some reason Scott’s new genetically enhanced, bite enabled ears picked up on that name, on that empty space, and it felt, important, like he should know something about it. Like he did know something about it and he just hasn’t remembered yet. After lunch, Stiles had dashed to the library to pick up books he thought may help with Scott’s newfound “condition”. So he missed the Isaac conundrum. He came in as Mr. Harris started writing on the chalkboard. Scott wondered when his school would upgrade the tech to dry erase white boards. Those things look so cool on TV. More students would probably volunteer to go up to such a board, when asked. 

Stiles threw a note at his desk. He would have just leaned over and started whispering like he usually does, but he wanted to delay Mr. Harris’s acknowledgment of his presence, followed by his unkind greeting slash hello threat. His note to Scott said he had found a few books that look promising. Scott wrote back a question. He wanted to know what Isaac Lahey was wearing yesterday. If anyone would remember something as random as what the tall lanky, quiet student who only shows up to class half the time and, even with his large figure, has the presence of plain patterned wallpaper (stripes for instance), it would be Stiles, observation extraordinaire, who also has the ability to be distracted and temporally fascinated by just about anything. 

“Why?” Evidently, the note portion of their conversation was over.

“Do you remember?”

“He wore a dark green pullover hoodie with lace ties, ones he kept chewing on. He also wore dark wash jeans and his usual stained white shoes, converse style.”

“What was I wearing?” Scott added out of curiosity. Stiles huffed out air. Now was not the time to focus on and play with his EH abilities, not when Scott’s new DNA essentially made him into a hairy ninja with super healing powers. How does a photographic, audio-graphic and just about every way in which one can absorb information, type of memory or recollection skill compare to that? It’s like comparing Superman to Bill Nye the Science Guy. Which he legally isn’t suppose to be referred to as anymore, but realistically generations of people need to die before that will ever happen. Wait, what was he thinking... oh yeah, clothes.

“Really, that’s what you want to talk-”

“As pleased as I am to have you join us, Mr. Stillinski, do you think you could possible shut that obnoxiously babbling thing under your nose.” And there’s the greeting.

“I can try, but I truly believe that if a booger is speaking to you, you should let it speak.”

“Well then, if you like talking about vile substances, than I can’t wait to hear what you will have to say about your experience of cleaning the snake and tarantula cages later at three.” And there’s the detention. Scott thought that it was nice to know that even on days where your very DNA is altered and the attitudes of those around you have shifted, some things never change. 

Another thing that didn’t change was the plan to go to lacrosse tryouts. It’s really more of a team position tryout, than a, get on the team, tryout, since with a school as small as theirs, it’s always been the rule that if you want to be on the team, you are. Scott and Stiles were on the team last year. They basically got benched even for practices, since they didn’t present a formidable enough challenge for the teammates who actually got to play. 

This year would be different though. Scott could feel it. He would get off that bench, he would get on first sting, heck, he’d make captain. He could actually see it happening. Like when you try to think of an answer to a question on a test, and it looks just like one that was on a homework paper and once you recognize it you can see the answer even before comprehending what it is being asked or what the answer means. It’s a good feeling. 

“McCall! Either pick up a stick or get off the field, I’ve seen turtles hustle faster than you. And do you know what turtles are known for?” Coach Finstock yelled as he charged towards Scott.

“Being slow?” The coach didn’t like it when you answered correctly or jumped the gun during his critically constructive speeches.

“So I suggest you speed the hell up, unless you want to play lacrosse with the turtles!” This is a man who probably shouldn’t be teaching, but because the students find him so entertaining, they not only hold him in high esteem- which is reflected in teacher evaluations, but students also tend to do well in his classes as a result. Which is how a guy, who probably shouldn’t be a teacher, is holding three teaching positions at Beacon Hills High School.

Along with feeling slightly humiliated, Scott began to feel something else, something off, something that made him uneasy. This wasn’t internal, which was currently shifting to slight aggravation, it also wasn’t new. It was a common, run of the mill, I’m being watched, feeling. But it felt sharper, more urgent, and more sinister than when you meet the eyes of a fellow classmate down the hall. He is being watched. Someone is watching him, where, where, need to find, need to find, familiar, dangerous, need, THERE. 

Has he mentioned that Beacon Hills is a small town surrounded by, really engulfed with, woods. In fact, the school is planted in the center of a large cluster of it. It’s the type of school you’d see in horror films. Of course, in film, the band of sexually charged rat pack of adolescents won’t get any phone service and the only way to escape the school and the chain saw wielding mass murderer is to run for it. But with a school in the middle of nowhere, all but one will die before they get anywhere near the rest of town. And the survivor will be that super smart virgin one that knows how to make fire bombs from the supplies in the chemistry classroom. And that person can kill the murderer. The flames will send the cops over. Does Stiles know how to make fire bombs?

It was a fantasy Scott has played with before, so when he saw the stranger staring out from the edge of the forest, staring at him, his mind only supplied the word “fire bombs”. The next word was “leather jacket.” That same knowing feeling he had about being a lacrosse captain came back, but it didn’t feel nearly as good. It was quite horrific. He knew. He knew he was staring at the guy who had attacked Isaac Lahey. He knew that the guy who attacked Isaac Lahey was staring at him. 

“McCall!” Instantly, Scott looked to the source to his name being called, his coach. Then he looked right back to that same spot in the woods. It had to have taken less than a second. In less than a second, that man had disappeared. 

The only way Scott got through tryouts was by assuring himself he could always be going insane. That way there really wouldn’t be a vicious man stalking him. And after Jackson Whittemore slammed him to the ground for the third time, and he felt him return the favor in just, it only looked like he went further and higher, and Jackson slammed back to the ground. The whole knockdown was like some action movie stunt and not something Scott was physically capable of doing. At least he hadn’t been that strong yesterday. Or any day before that.

By the time he got home at 3:15 PM, he had almost forgotten about the strange man or Isaac Lahey or Boyd and that weird conversation or that Stiles had said he would be coming over with some utensils later (after his detention). His mind was filled with his new co-captain status, and the fact the Allison had started to cheer HIM on towards the end of practice. How great it had felt to see Jackson so angry, he could practically taste the jealously.

The memories he would rather forget came crashing back as soon as he entered his bedroom. If he hadn’t seen him, he would still smell the dirt and sweat and wet fur and... gasoline? that would alert him to the intruder in his room. The man, from the woods, walking towards him, also told him that. 

Scott instinctually backed up, his body closing the door behind him. That’s right, close your only means to escape, that’ll ease your troubles. The man moved right into his personal space and closer. Scott held up his hand and closed his eyes, waiting for the attack. 

Nothing happened.

Scott opened one eye, than both. The man, and he was definitely a man, the even amount of finely trimmed facial hair, the gelled back hair, his hazel green eyes, not red, also decreased the intimidation or scare factor a bit. Just as Scott felt his body relax the man grabbed onto his shirt.

“Come with me.” If he could even think to scream, he would have as the man’s eyes suddenly glowed red. One arm joined another and Scott was half carried, half dragged from his room, out of his house and pushed roughly into a car. He would have fought his way to the other side and out of the car, to home, to freedom, but Boyd was also sitting in the back seat of the car. And he was smiling pleasantly at him. He was stunned into inaction. Finally, he was able to think again and his thoughts had words attached to them.

“What the hell is going on!” is what his brain had cooked up.

“Relax, it’ll all make sense shortly.” The man grunted out. Scott highly doubted that. He highly doubted anything that was going to happen next would make any more sense than what has happened so far. 

He was inclined to feel correct when they pulled up in front of the Hale House. In fact, he was certain it was all about to get a whole lot more confusing.


	2. Hale House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott's at the Hale House. Stories get told, threats and offers get made. There is a smell of muffins in the air.

The first thing Scott noticed when he entered the Hale House was that most of the construction that had been seen over the past year must a been for show because it still looked like a burned out, blackened dump. Though there was a complete roof on top and the stairs looked pretty sturdy. There still was leaves and dirt and broken everything on the floor. The last thing on Scott’s mind was the interior design and general upkeep of the building he was just shoved into. It was official; he’s been kidnapped. He looked up and over at his assailant from his position on the ground. He put his hands up. He didn’t want to cause any trouble; he is and will be completely compliant; he just wants to live. His heart rate doubled as the man took a step closer. Scott felt the air thinning around him, that familiar feeling of not getting enough air, of not being able to breathe properly. His hand instinctually reached out for his pocket, for his inhaler, except, he didn’t have it. It was most likely still sitting in his backpack. At home. 

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.” Scott was beginning to feel lightheaded, and there was pain in his chest. It was spreading. He heard heavy footsteps to his right. Oh god, what now? It was either his new sensitive hearing, or the person coming near him happens to be really large. It would take more oxygen entering his brain to figure it out, and when it did, Scott was able to put together the following: Boyd the Bully had just entered the room, forcefully sat him down, put his head forward so he was facing the ground, and told him to hold his breath and count to ten. Hold his breath, he needs air! 

“Hold your breath, Scott.” Boyd added a “trust me” in his soothing tone of voice. Scott forced himself to obey. He wasn’t sure what was scarier, being kidnapped by a literal mad man and the school bully, or having an asthma attack in said situation. “Count to ten.” Was Boyd’s next instruction. Then he told Scott to repeat the process a few more times, all while rubbing small circles into his back with his fingers. Scott felt his body calm down, relax. He breathed out a “thank you” as he looked up at his savior, who was looking up at... ah, right, he’s been kidnapped by that angry guy, this is still happening. 

Well now he’s just flat out confused. 

Confusion gave way to pure fear when the next new person entered the room. If his face, if his red eyed face, didn’t give it away, then that voice which was tattooed into Scott’s brain would have clued him in. 

“Sorry for the- is everything okay in here?” Scott did what his natural instincts told him to do. He screamed. He scrambled to his feet and mad dashed it for the door. He didn’t care that the mean man was standing there, he’d plow right thr- a firm hand on his shoulder stilled his movements, one of his legs was still knee high in the air. His biter, the guy that bit him yesterday, firmly held him in place.

“Save the hysterics, if we wanted to harm you, I would have killed you last night. Derek, please tell me that you informed our guests that they were being extended an invitation to have all of their questions about... Scott was it? Scott’s new lease on life, right? Tell me you didn’t just grab him and throw him in the back of your car, did you?” the mean one’s silence was a clear “yes”. 

But then he asked, “Guests?” Scott glanced over at Boyd. How could he be forgotten? He’s right there. Unless... then Scott heard it. A car, an old car, coming closer, and because one sense had focused in on it, the others followed suit. There was a smell of skin and chocolate, no wet fur, which is a scent that this house was drenched in. And then a voice, oh no, not this, not that slightly low tone, that sarcastic voice.

“Stiles.” Scott saying it out loud got the mean, mad man, Derek, his biter had called him, moving quickly out the door, out of the house, and Scott actually caught a glimpse of Stiles’s jeep before the door closed.

“He’s lost a few social skills and has gotten a bit paranoid over the years. Family tragedy and all.” His biter explained. His words kicked Scott out of observation mode. He needed to get to his friend before Derek did. He pulled out from his biter’s hold. “Though I’m sure you already guessed that much just by looking around.” That statement made Scott pause on the porch. Derek was already holding Stiles by the neck and walking him towards the house. Scott shared a worried look with his best friend. He turned his head back towards his biter, his eyes stayed on Stiles.

“Wait, this is... was your... you're a...” He’s been kidnapped by the ghosts of werewolves, or zombie werewolves, either way, this wasn’t good.

“Hale, yes, didn’t I mention that last night?” His biter was now by the doorway, at least he sounded like it. Scott still didn’t want to take his eyes off of Derek and Stiles. Stiles gave him a small wave, which he returned. Thinking back, Scott couldn’t remember any conversation happening between him and his biter. Why does his mind keep supplying the term “his biter” as if he belongs to the guy or vise versa? “Later than never,” the Hale that bit him was saying, Scott really needed to focus. “I’m Peter Hale, welcome to my home, and the brute holding your friend up is my nephew, Derek Hale. Now Derek, if you’re done proving you can push around a newly turned wolf and a human, I’d like you to kindly lead our guests inside.” 

“I like him.” Stiles side-pointed to Peter’s retreating back. Derek squeezed the back of Stiles’s neck one last time before letting him go and stepping away. “And I definitely don’t like you.” Scott finally made it to his friend.

“What are you doing here?”

“Did I just hear your kidnapper say “Hale”? As in the dead Hales?”

“Do we look dead to you?” Derek butt in. He was by the door, waiting. Scott looked back over at Stiles’s jeep, an escape plan forming. “Don’t even think about it, I’d just drag you back here.” Scott hesitated a few more seconds, hoping an epiphany that would get them out of this situation would occur. 

Scott, followed closely by Stiles, walked slowly towards and into the Hale House. Derek glanced around the yard for a moment before shutting them all in for the evening. Scott is the worst kidnap victim ever, and now he has gotten Stiles involved.

“Please, take a seat.” Was the first thing Scott heard from his Peter, there he goes with the “his” stuff again, when he reentered the house that he knew would be the location of any new nightmares he has. Scott followed the voice to what may have been a living room once. Well, it had a couch. The only other places to sit were on a couple of boxes and a coffee table. There was also the floor option, where Boyd the Savior was sitting next to... Erica Reyes, who smiled. Scott looked over at Stiles to see if his friend had noticed the same thing. Stiles was too busy watching Derek enter. When he saw Derek take a seat on one of the boxes, Stiles backed away and into the couch, where he sat down. 

“I don’t want to repeat myself, Scott.” Scott sat down next to Stiles. Stiles noticed Erica and Boyd, but he didn’t dare to comment once Peter stood up. “Great, let us quickly get through the required exposition part of this story; it'll make it more entertaining. First of all, let me start by saying I had no intention of biting you last night. You see, there was another person, did you see him, that Derek wanted and you just happened to be there too. You must understand, we are trying to be secretive about our presence in town. Can’t really do that if we leave witnesses.” The Peter explained. Scott nodded as he if fully understood the plight of an undead werewolf, who felt cornered into sneaking up on and biting and changing the entire life of an innocent teenager, oh, this asshole! Where did that surge of anger come from?

“Then you really shouldn’t go around biting people in the middle of the street.” Scott, now you’re just asking to get killed. 

“Again, not my idea. What was my idea was to _not_ kill you.” Point taken. 

“Brilliant plan.” Stiles had found the nerve to talk again. “So, when does Scott get his members only collar?” Scott elbowed him.

“It’s okay, Scott, I’m sure much of what your friend has to say about our kind will unfortunately be inaccurate.” 

“Heh, what, werewolves don’t do humor?” Derek was on his feet again. Scott put his arm out in front of Stiles, as if that would protect his insanely talkative friend if Derek chose to- where’d he go?... he was now behind the couch and he yanked Stiles’s head back. 

“I’m only going to say this once: We are not WERE wolfs. We are Wolf People. Got it?” Derek ground out. One of his claws drew a line around Stiles’s neck.

“Derek, what did we learn about using only our words to express ourselves. You are not allowed to hurt our guests while they are in our house.”

“Yeah, Derek, so you can get your perverted, beastly nails off me.”

“Though what he said is true, we are not fanciful creatures who howl at the moonlight or can be killed with silver bullets, so please don’t use that derogatory word. ” 

“Does this look like a nail to you!” Derek’s na-claw moved up to Stiles’s eyes.

“Derek, don’t make me repeat myself.”

“But-”

“You can scold him later.” The smile Derek flashed Stiles made the teen’s mouth drop.

“Oh that won’t be necessary, I feel scolded enough. Bad Stiles. I get it, really. No name calling.” A pause that made Scott actually believe his friend, then “So what can you be killed by?” 

“Stiles!” Scott knew that the more scared or nervous Stiles got, the more he talked. When they were younger, there had been a really bad storm going on while Stiles was sleeping over at Scott’s house. Scott heard about every test Stiles ever underwent for his advanced learning abilities, and he heard what Lydia Martin had worn to school for the past three months, or as Stiles had called it, her winter wardrobe, and what his top ten favorites were. Scott’s blocking or half listening technique had developed that night. 

Derek chose to sit on the floor next to Stiles this time, with his back against the leg of the couch, and this kept his friend quiet for the time being. When all was settled, Peter launched into what sounded to be, not only a well rehearsed speech, but one he really enjoyed giving. He told the story that Scott had only known about from history books, about the insane Doctor who created the first wolf. The first wolf had DNA that was so mutated, he was genetically much more wolf than man. Through time and expansion of the mutation, an entire populace of the enhanced humans came to be. 

Like with any civilization, there needed to be order. A hierarchy system based on one’s own level of power and ability was created on top of the pack system, which was naturally put in place by their more animalistic sides. 

“It would be like a country without a government, without law enforcement. And without any authority figures to lead and guide. You can see how quickly such a community would fall to chaos.” Scott nodded, he was reminded of a book he had to read for school about a bunch of kids who lost their parents and wound up killing a fat kid. In relation, werewolves were like kids without, and who needed, parents. He totally gets it. 

Peter then told of the basic hierarchy of wolves. It was all pretty simple. Alphas were the parents, for most wolf families, or packs, only one alpha was needed. Scott could relate. Betas were the children, they could be naturally born or turned. Scott could relate. And then there were the omegas, who were the orphans. Peter stressed that wolves need to be in a pack in order to survive. That Omegas never survive long on their own. Scott didn’t want to relate to that. Looks like he’ll be sticking to the beta role... which would make Peter his parent... 

“Why can’t wolves survive on their own? People do it all the time, and with abilities like theirs-”

“Like yours, Scott. You are a wolf.”

“Right, so like, is it just a strength in numbers thing?”

“Precisely. which brings me to my next and final point. On the surface, people know that wolves are just enhanced humans and that killing us is like killing any human, and therefore it is illegal. But like anything that is illegal, including murder, simply making it against the law doesn’t actually stop individuals from doing it. And there just so happens to be a very specific group of individuals, aptly named “hunters”, whose sole purpose is to hunt wolves, wolves like me and Derek and even you, Scott, and kill us. Kill us all.”

“Why doesn’t anybody stop them, like the cops?” Scott had read about hunters too, but he always imagined a mad band of Elmer Fud type folks, who lived out in rural... areas... somewhere in Colorado, for instance. He didn’t like how near his Peter was making these hunters sound.

“Was anyone stopped or arrested when this house was burned down?”

“You mean-”

“Yes, I mean.” Yup, way too near. Scott’s fear keeps shifting, but it’s not going away. 

“You’ve never been able to prove that.” Derek spoke for the first time since his Uncle began his lecture.

“Well, let’s get Scott’s opinion, shall we? Scott, if there is an entire family of wolves, living in a house, in a town, peacefully, for many generations, and then one day-”

“It wasn’t one day, they were here for years.”

“One day, a very notorious, at least in the world we live in, family of hunters moved in and low and behold, in just a few short, okay, after a couple of decades; don’t give me that look, Derek; a fire breaks out killing most of the family who lived here. Trapped, in their own house, to burn to death. Now, tell me, Scott, how many times do you find yourself trapped in your own house? Wolves have, as I’m sure you’re finding out, enhanced and advanced speed, strength, and healing abilities. So, could a house like this possibly keep a family of wolves from escaping?” 

“I-don’t know.”

“Doesn’t sound like an accidental fire, does it?”

“Not really.”

“Do you think it’s at all possible that those responsible for the fire was none other then the family of hunters who make it their livelihood to kill wolves in ways in which it won’t appear to be illegal?’

“Enough.” Said Derek.

“It fits, but it’s circumstantial at best.” Said Stiles. 

“Excuse me?” It was the first time that evening that his Peter sounded even slightly angry.

“Well, sure, it could have been that hunter family, or it could have been some of the more vicious members of the wer- of the wolf community, you know, trying to claim your territory for theirs, but then they got caught up in the fire themselves, or even other, outside hunters, who knew about your wolf family and the hunter family and thought at best, if any wolf survives, they would blame the hunter family and then get away scot free, no pun intended, bro. Then again, it could have been an inside job, a wer- a Hale wolf could have gone parricidal and hooked up with some hunters, the hunter family, other hunters, or even other wolves-”

“Okay, we get it!” Derek bit out.

“Hey, I’m agreeing with you, no need to bite my head off... by the way, could you do that?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Nah, I’d rather sit here and listen to the rest of Peter’s fascinating story.” His Peter stared at Stiles, probably wondering if he really needed to be here, before he spoke again.

“That’s all I have to say about the fire. And all the essential information I feel Scott should know before he decides.”

“Before he/I decides what?” Stiles and Scott asked. Instead of answering, his Peter gestured Scott to move closer to him. Scott wasn’t sure if it was the wolf in him or... the rest of him, that obeyed. 

As soon as he was close, his Peter said, “I know this is a lot to take in right now, and you must be a bit overwhelmed.”

“A bit.”

“The important thing to take away from all this is how important you are. You are one of us, Scott. And we need you to be with us.”

“With you?”

“Be part of our pack. This is what you need to decide, to be a part of our family or not.”

“I already have a-”

“A second family, of course, I don’t mean to exclude your mother.”

“How do you know about-”

“I assume everyone has a mother, Scott.”

“I don’t.” Stiles had finally dared to move closer to them. His Peter didn’t bother to glance or otherwise acknowledge Stiles.

“Look, you don’t have to live here, just spend most of your waking hours here. Now, that’s not too much to ask is it?”

“I personally don’t think it’s physically safe or healthy to spend even one more minute here. Should we be breathing this air?” And again Stiles was ignored.

“And the amount of time you will need to be here will be reduced once you’re properly trained and ready.”

“Trained?” Scott finally spoke up. Why is it after he is told “everything he needs to know to decide” all this new information comes at him? 

“You need to learn control. Control over your wolfish instincts. To remain calm in any circumstance.”

“I have control.” Scott didn’t like that the longer his Peter spoke, the less it felt like he was really being given a decision to make.

“Really, that’s not what Boyd told me. He told me about an incident at lunch today, and on the lacrosse field. It is lacrosse right, the sport you play?” Scott could only nod at the question; he didn’t want to acknowledge everything else that was said “Would you like to see what will become of you if you don’t learn proper control?” Scott nodded again, but more slowly. Though part of him didn’t want to, Scott followed his Peter into the other room, and down a hallway. The thought that his Peter could just be taking him to another room to beat him up, crossed his mind briefly. But he also had to acknowledge that some part, one guess for which part, trusts his Peter. Which just makes the rest of him feel uneasy. He felt a little better when he saw Stiles following them. When they reached a door Peter turned and looked right at Stiles. He held his finger up. “You can’t come with.”

“Wha?” Stiles stopped short and asked.

“If the scent of fellow wolves riles him up, and trust me, it does, how do you think he’ll respond to seeing a defenseless, fragile human?” So, not getting beat up, going to see someone.

“With a smile on his face and a song in his heart.” Scott wanted to ask, he who, but he felt he already knew the answer. His feelings are all over the place. Overwhelmed is an understatement.

“Derek, why don’t you go show Stiles the books I want to lend him. They are in the study on my desk.”

“You’rereallylendingmeyourbooks.” Stiles breathed out.

“I think it would be wise for to you know some of the differences between what you have seen on tv and what your friend has turned into. It could save your life in the future.”

“Boyd,” Derek called.

“No, Derek, I asked you.”

“Know what could save my life right now, if I don’t go with Derek.” Stiles stated.

“I agree.” agreed Derek. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Peter said as he opened the door in front of him. Stiles opened his mouth to protest again, but was silenced when Derek grabbed his arm and dragged him down the hall. Scott looked at Peter for an explanation. The thought about being beat up came back. This time it starred whoever they were going to meet.

“Your friend is safe. Derek is just getting a repeat lesson in not undermining my authority. I’m his uncle, after all.” With that, Peter started walking down a set of stairs on the other side of the door. Scott had no choice but to follow him into the basement.

At least, he was expecting a basement to be under a house and not the series of tunnels he saw. He suddenly wished Stiles was with him. Maybe he was wrong about “he who”. This might be some old rabid wolf person that they’ve been keeping trapped down here for years. Or a dead guy who had gotten “out of control”. What would they do if he doesn’t learn “control” fast enough for their liking... he doesn’t want to think about it. He envisions sharp objects slicing into his eyeballs. The mind just goes there. 

His body went into a larger room. This one had your average medieval jail slash cage taking up the back half of it. Scott didn’t see anything or anyone right away, but he could smell the usual mix of sweat and wet fur he had come to associate with wolves. And what was that other, sweeter scent... muffins? Before he could try to make another guess at what his enhanced smelling skill was picking up, a giant evil leprechaun leaped out at him. Evil leprechauns are real! Wait, he knows that green hoodie, those dark wash jeans. And if he had his shoes on, Scott would recognize (through Stiles’s description) the color and kind. Then, as if the person on the other side of the bars had recognized him as well, the face smoothed out, the facial hair retreated, and in some places, came back, the claws retracted, and the eyes shifted from yellow to blue. 

Isaac Lahey looked surprised to see him. Scott was just in awe. He had felt the changes in his own body before, had seen the eye trick with the others, and now found himself too transfixed to look away or move after seeing the whole transformation happen before him. The word amazing didn’t cover it. 

“Fascinating. I do believe you’re the first one to calm him down since the bite, not even Derek can calm him.” Scott finally looked away from Isaac.

“You mean, he’s been like that since last night?”

“More or less.”

“Please, I don’t like being trapped in small spaces. Let me out.” The room and the cell holding Isaac didn’t look all that small to Scott. Then again, Isaac looked like he hadn’t slept all night, who knows what his mind was perceiving. 

“Now Isaac, we’ve been through this before. You need to control yourself before we can do that. Otherwise, I may be forced to bill you for property damage.”

“I’ll be calm. In control. Please, let me out.” He wasn’t looking at Peter when he pleaded. 

“Let him out.” Scott spoke up.

“But-”

“I think he’ll be better able to stay calm if he’s out.” Scott was beginning to feel his body heating up again with that special kind of energy, his blood pumping that special kind of black substance just a little bit faster. He didn’t care that Peter is the guy that made him, his alpha or whatever, Isaac was going to be let out today, preferably now. 

“I can’t say I agree with that, completely.” Peter said each word slowly. “I have a feeling that my opinion on the matter is the furthest thing from your apparent resolve.”

“So...?” Peter rolled his eyes.

“I mean, that, in more ways than one, Isaac will be allowed to be free because of you.” Peter took something, a key, a humongous key, out of his pocket and handed it to Scott. Scott had no idea what most of his cryptic words meant, but if it all meant Isaac was getting out, then that’s all that matters. As he unlocked the door, he wondered why it, why letting Isaac out, seemed to matter so much to him anyway, he barely knew the guy.

He expected to see some joy and gratitude on Isaac’s face as he opened the door. What he got was an opened faced stare. Isaac stared at him, through him really, as he moved forward, placed his hand on Scott’s chest, and uttered a “Thanks” as he passed him. Scott almost grabbed Isaac’s hand, but he had already moved it away and was approaching the door. Scott could only stare after the man who had once again shifted, this time from a pleading, bleeding heart to being cold and indifferent. Scott wanted to throw him back in the cage. Scott caught Peter staring at him. Right, he needed to keep an eye on this guy too. After all, this was the guy that bit him. 

“Is everyone happy now? Shall we head back upstairs, or would you like to take a look at some of our other establishments.” Alpha or no Alpha, Scott couldn’t bring himself to trust him. In fact, he didn’t trust anyone in this house. He really wanted to get back to Stiles now. Not only for fear for his safety either. 

Scott was led back upstairs, back to the main part, the front room, of the house. Erica and Boyd were by the door. He didn’t see Isaac anywhere. He couldn’t locate Stiles after a quick sweep of the room either, and panic quickly began to build up. Derek ate him. Scott knew he had seen a funny look in that guy’s eyes when his best friend had sauntered into the house before, like he owned it. Derek had wanted to eat his friend.

“So, is the meet and greet over?” He could hear Stiles before he saw Derek and him emerge from a room to the right. Derek looked like he would be okay with either being killed or killing Stiles at that moment. Stiles had a stack of books in his arms. “Do you have a tail, like can you grow one like you can with the claws and the teeth, or do you have to reach a certain age or level of experience for that?”

“How do you shut him up?” Derek asked Scott.

“I don’t and can’t. Stiles, I think you should leave Derek alone before he hurts you.”

“Hurt me. He can’t hurt me. Peter said so.”

“It’s true.” Peter’s eyes landed on Derek as he spoke. Stiles looked from Peter to Derek as if he would be able to pick up on their ongoing silent communication. Must be a wolf thing. Whatever Peter said, it led Derek to grabbing Stiles by the arm again and leading him to the front of the house and out the front door. He then unceremoniously tossed Stiles to the ground in front of the house. Scott was by his side immediately.

“He also said I could scold you later.” There was that creepy and wide smile again.

“Right, must have missed that, what with all the talk of mad ancestors and murdered families.” Stiles said as he slowly got up with Scott’s help. He didn’t let go of Scott’s arm as he waited for Derek’s response. For a defensive reflex, whether due to fear or straight nerves, his sarcasm really does a crappie job of keeping him safe. Derek luckily chose to ignore the comment and stayed on the porch. 

“It’s getting late. Go home to your mother, but I need you to be here around the same time tomorrow. Betas need to check in with their Alphas daily.” Peter said as he emerged from the doorway. Well, there went Scott’s “choice” in the matter. “That goes for you too, Isaac.” he added as he looked a little to his left. Scott quickly followed his gaze. He caught Isaac nodding before the teen turned and ran. Scott wondered if he could run that fast too.

“...and your dilapidated lair anyway.” Scott caught Stiles saying. He didn’t know how long he had spaced out for, but Erica was now near them. 

“You should come back tomorrow too, I promise to be gentle with you.” She said to Stiles.

“Gentle, what are you planning to do with me?”

“What do you want to do with me?”

“I want to ask you what you plan to do to me?”

“Huh?” Scott picked up the books Stiles had dropped during his fall. He had enough of this place, so he pushed the books into Stiles’s arms and then gently grabbed his right arm to drag him away. This technique of Derek’s actually worked quite well. With a quick goodbye to Erica, and one look back at the house, they made it to Stiles’s jeep without incident.

“Was it me, or was there blatant sexual desire laced with everything Erica said and did?” Stiles asked once they were at the jeep, though, knowing what he knows now, were not out of earshot from... anyone in that house.

“I noticed it too.”

“You think all females are like that? It’s kind of hot. Do you think Derek hates me?”

“Yes, now will you get in the car, please.”

“Do you think Erica just heard what I said about me liking her wanton behavior?” Scott refused to comment. Surprisingly, once Stiles got in, started the car and drove away, he also stopped speaking. He understood that Scott needed some time to let everything they had just learned sink in. He had lasted an entire ten minutes before speaking. It might be his new personal record. He could have been deep in thought himself the whole time, but Scott suspected he also wanted to be out of earshot of certain individuals before speaking again. If there even was such a thing. They would have to test his hearing range sometime. “Not that being a part of a group of badass werewolves-”

“Wolf people.”

“Wolf people, who are just like werewolves, but are we really sure we’ve made the right decision here?” We? And when did he make the decision? Why is it the wrong decision? What did he mean?

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, was it really wise to join a pack of army wolves, who have already pitted themselves against a group of wolf hunters. I’m mean, you’ve been a werewolf for, what, a day? And you’ve already put a target on your head.”

“But as long as I don’t kill anyone, which I don’t plan to, then no hunters have any reason to come after me.”

“That didn’t stop them from killing the whole Hale family with that fire, did it? You think they were all killers? No, I seriously need to know, we’re associating with these people.”

“No I don’t. Besides, Derek doesn’t even think it was hunters anyway.”

“Right, because the thought of it being some werewolf-hating pyromaniac is so much more comforting.”

“Hunters or not, my Peter still says that lone wolves- ”

“Oh, well, if your precious Peter said it-”

“What do you have against Peter?” And when did Scott feel the need to get so defensive about him? Once again, he felt like his choices have just been illusions given to make him feel like he still had some control over his life. Hell, he doesn’t even have much control over his feelings right now.

“Oh, I don't know, maybe because of his tendency to randomly bite my best friend to enlist him in his hairy, teenaged army. Did you not notice how many of our classmates where at that house?”

“I noticed, and it’s a pack, not an army. We don’t know why the others were there, for all we know, Erica and Boyd wanted to get bit.”

“And Isaac? He looked pretty happy to get as far away from there as possible, to me.”

“I don’t think Isaac is happy about anything.” Scott made a mental note to fill Stiles in on what he saw in the basement, about Isaac. Right now just didn’t feel like the right time. 

“And Peter, your Peter, even said you needed to go there for “training”. You can’t tell me that doesn’t sound-”

“It’s training to be better wolves.”

“It’s training to be killer wolves.”

“I already have the urge to kill, Stiles. I won’t need any training for that.” That shut Stiles up. For a whole minute. Until they reached Scott’s house.

“So, can I raid your house for healthy food. It’s for my Dad, I would go buy it, myself, but your house is, you know, right here.” 

“Yeah sure, just don’t take my Mom’s yogurt.” And just like that, their “fight” was over. Not that he was mad with Stiles to begin with. He didn’t want to be a part of some killers - in - training, or killers - will - target - you, pack either. But he also didn’t want to abandon or ignore the people he met today, especially his classmates. Plus it might be dangerous to try and ignore the Hales, or worse, turn down their offer to join them. 

Stiles shut off his car and the two teens made their way to the house. Scott didn’t even bother checking to see if the front door was locked or not. The memory of being dragged out of his house earlier that day replayed in his mind. What time was it? School seemed like it happened days ago. Damn, was he tired, both in mind and in body, but mostly in mind. It should be well past twilight, like 2 AM. 

Or 7 PM. Which is was. He was an hour late for work. He’s officially calling in sick. He’ll make the call tomorrow. Work, school, how could he even think of such normal things. He turned to Stiles, “You can stay if you want, but I’m going to bed.”

“Seriously, dude, how are you not wired with excitement after everything we learned today?”

“Because it’s after everything we learned today. I don’t know. I just am. Good night.”

“Sleep tight. What does that actually mean, tight, like how would one sleep loose? And when I think of the image of sleeping loose, it’s not a bad one. Limbs are slack, the body is all stretched out. You know if you hold your muscles tightly, such as when you push against something, in a certain position for a full minute or longer, once you let go, muscle memory kicks in and...” Stiles was still talking as Scott left the kitchen. 

He slowly made his way up the stairs, his mind swimming with the events of today, not just what happened, but what it meant and what it will mean. He’s a werewolf. This is a thing that happened. The guy that bit him had just wanted to keep his family’s werewolf-army hush hush. Scott wouldn’t be in this mess, he wouldn’t be like this, if he had just stayed home. Then again, that’s a moot argument, he’s bound to go out sometimes, and once and a while, stuff will happen when he does. Stiles yelled up the stairs that he would bring snacks up. Scott yelled down that it was fine; they had skipped dinner, he shouldn’t go to bed on an empty stomach anyway.

Now where was he? Right, Werewolves were mean and violent and snarky and they made fat guys and waif girls into eye candy. They were people who were stigmatized, people who were sometimes hunted down like animals. Scott could be hunted down like an animal. Maybe, even by that whole family of hunters his Peter had talked about.

And then there’s Allison. Okay, so they weren’t dating or anything, but what girl, in her right mind, would want to date a wolf person? Did that mean his only dating option was Erica? Wait, Allison. Scott knew something about her, something important... Hale House! She and Lydia were talking about the Hale House today, and wolves, she knows! How, why, what did it mean? Scott entered his room and ran his hand through his hair, trying to piece it together. His stomach grumbled in protest. Stiles better hurry with the frickin snacks, since it looks like he won’t be falling asleep anytime soon. 

His stomach then provided him with an image of Isaac and the scent memory of muffins. God, now the smell was right in the room. Would all scent memories be this strong? It was getting stronger by the - Scott stared shocked - eyed into the very same blue eyed, muffin smelling person he had been imagining. Isaac Lahey was standing hunched over by his window. Correction, he was standing hunched over outside his window, on his roof.


	3. Lines Blurred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott faces another school day, one with shocks, more smells, a game of dodgeball and brief nudity.

Scott quickly crossed the room and opened the window. He moved aside, expecting Isaac to stumble in the room in much of the same way Stiles will do whenever Scott is grounded from seeing him (or it’s passed Scott’s bedtime). Five seconds after opening the window, there was still no Isaac in his room. He ducked his head out of the window this time.

As soon as he did, Isaac held his hand out and said, “You dropped this.” In Isaac’s hands were Scott’s house and car and bike and Stile’s house keys, and his keychain. It was his stuff, his keys. Scott’s eyes yellowed.

“How do you have my keys? How did you get them? When did I lose them? How did you know they were mine? How do you know where I live? Is this like a thing werewolves do; they stalk people all day, every day, at school and at home? And why me, huh, Isaac, why did he bite ME!” He spat out.

Isaac blinked slowly. It was infuriating.

“I found them. I don’t have answers to any of the other stuff. Do you want your keys or not?” Scott grabbed the keys from Isaac’s hands, accidentally scratching the back of his hand up with his new claws. Once he did, the claws disappeared and everything went back to normal. Normal, as in, the unnecessary and extremely intense furry he had felt was now gone.

“I-”

“You should talk to my Derek,” Isaac, who was looking everywhere south of who he was talking to, dully stated, “for your answers.” He then leaped off of Scott’s roof. Scott watched him hobble for a few moments before he straightened out, or at least as much as Isaac Lahey ever straightened out. It was as if his head and shoulders were just too heavy for the rest of his body to carry properly. 

“I’d rather talk to you.” Scott gripped the edge of his window. He had snapped. And he now felt angry at himself, but the intensity was nowhere near where it was a moment ago, and this fit the situation. All day, he has been fed more information than he knew what to do with and it has left him with more questions than he knew how to put words to. There was only so much new and weird and confusing and terrifying things he could take in a twenty-four hour period.

It was one thing to have the environment change, for people and places and basic concepts like anger issues or authority figures (did he really have to put his trust, obedience and loyalty into a guy he just met and just because the guy had bitten him against his will?) to change. However, on the same day as all that, HE changed. He felt like a stranger inside his own body, no, like there _was_ a stranger inside his body. And at any moment, this body snatcher could take control and rip a person’s head off. Twenty-four hours ago, the thought of seeing a werewolf had been exciting. The knowledge of being a werewolf had started off a bit thrilling, but it all was quickly turning into a nightmare, one where there wasn’t just one murderer, but perhaps an entire family of hunters was out there, willing to kill him. And he not only had the capabilities, but the desire to kill others too. He could become a murderer too.

It was during these dark thoughts that Stiles chose to enter his room.

“Dude, I think your mom is beginning to hide the snack food from us, all I found were these bags of... Scott? What’s wrong?” From Stiles’s viewpoint, his friend had his back turned, his head was down and his upper body was out the window. With the afternoon they had, he wouldn’t be surprised if his friend was getting ready to howl at the moon. Wait, real wolves don’t do that. It’s so research time.

“Stiles, get out.” It’s so not research time? Scott’s voice sounded rough, it sounded dangerous.

“Why... is something out there?” He asked slowly.

“No, it’s because I’m in here.” Scott turned around. He had a small smile on his face, he also had sideburns on his face and his eyes were bright yellow. 

“Scott... it’s me, your best friend, remember?” Scott had clearly not only forgotten whom his friend was, but whom he was. Stiles took one step back, and Scott took one giant leap forward. Stiles yelled out as they hit on the ground hard. Scott clawed hands landed on either side of his face. His eyes drifted down to Stiles’s neck, but as soon as he opened his fanged mouth, he paused. His mouth closed and Stiles saw his nose flare. That’s right, take in the scent of your best friend and remember. Scott closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were brown. And Stiles watched as Scott’s face turned back to the one Stiles knew.

“S-Stiles?”

“The one and only.” Scott became fully aware of the situation and he quickly rolled off of his friend in response. 

“You okay?”

“I’m still talking to you, aren’t I?”

“I mean,” Scott sat up and he scanned Stiles’s body, “Are you hurt?”

“Despite being tackled by a were version of you, I believe I’m still in one piece. I also reserve the right to hate you tomorrow if I end up being too sore to move.” 

“Sorry.”

“And you had to slam me down between your two plush rugs and not on them.”

“Sorry again.” Scott rubbed his friend’s upper arm to get Stiles to look at him. He wanted to see what he was feeling. Stiles glanced over. He still looked scared, but also determined to get over it, over the fear. He had that look a lot when he was first learning how to drive. Video games prepare you for nothing. 

“Right, now that we’ve gotten the near death experience out of the way for the evening, here.” Stiles held up a bag of mini muffins. “A, please don’t do that again, offering.” he shook the bag when Scott didn’t grab it right away. “Scott?”

“I’m not hungry.” He took the bag away and just held it in his hands.

“So... what set you off, anyway?” This will be really important to know, Stiles may even write it down.

“I don’t know... honestly, I just keep getting these surges of anger, even back at the Hale House, and even at school today too.”

“The cafeteria.”

“Yeah.”

“Dude, why didn’t you say anything at the Hale House?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we were in a house filled with people who would know exactly what you’re going through and you know, could give you tips or something, so you don’t feel like killing your best friend.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I saw what they do to wolves they believe don’t have any control.” Scott then told Stiles about having first seen Isaac imprisoned at Hale House, though he left out having seen the guy again only moments ago.

“At least they weren’t torturing him, you know.”

“You didn’t see him, Stiles, he looked so scared.”

“Yeah, but we both saw Isaac outside before we left, and he wasn’t all wolfed out.”

“So?”

“So, clearly they know what they’re doing over there. They’ve been werewolves since before we even existed. Anyway, forget Isaac, I just remembered what I wanted to say before you tried to decapitate me with your teeth.”

“Can we not joke about that, I’m still freaked out that it happened.” Stiles finally sat up too.

“That makes two of us, dude. Anyway, so as I was digging for snacks, I was flipping through one of the books Peter gave me-”

“Lent to you.”

“You think I’m gonna steal from a werewolf?”

“What’d you find?”

“Huh, oh, so what Peter said about the whole wolf “hierarchy” thing is true. There are the three classes, Alpha on top, and then betas and omegas, just like he said. But what he didn’t tell us was that there is only, I mean ever, one Alpha per pack. The only mention of an exception is this legend of an Alpha pack, this group of all Alphas that goes on killing sprees around towns where new packs form. The Hales have been around forever, so we don’t have to worry about that. But there is definitely one per pack. One per family.”

“That makes sense.”

“So you see the problem.”

“What?”

“Oh, right, so, okay, there are also different colors the eyes can change into when shifts occur-”

“How much did you flip through?”

“I told you, your mom was trying to hide the snacks, so anyway, natural born wolves have blue eyes and turned wolves, like you, have yellow eyes and anyone who is an Alpha, no matter the background or how they were made, have red eyes.”

“Cool.”

“Scott, what color were Derek’s and Peter’s eyes?” Scott knew Peter’s, he had to think a bit to remember Derek’s.

“Red, both of them.”

“Exactly.”

“What does that mean?” The Hales didn’t consider themselves as part of the same pack?

“I don’t know. But the book said one per family; the first born inherits it.”

“Is there any other way to get it, to be an alpha, I mean?”

“Yeah.... you can also kill an Alpha.” Scott’s eyes widened.

“You think one of them killed an Alpha?”

“I just think it’s sketchy that the only two Hales alive just happen to be Alphas.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to ask them tomorrow.”

“You’re really going back there?”

“You think I have a choice, have you met Derek?”

“If it’s between the two of them, I think he’s the one that killed an Alpha.” Scott didn't like that thought, at all. 

“I know you probably don’t want to, but can we please talk about something else for awhile?” It felt like they have been dealing with this werewolf thing for weeks now, not days.

“Sure... oh god, is tomorrow really Friday?” Scott looked at his clock. Which doesn’t tell him what day it is. Just that is was getting late. The sun was almost set.

“Yeah, why?”

“Don’t you remember, of course you don’t, you’ve been dealing with becoming a creature of the night. Last Friday, at gym, Couch Finstock said that this Friday, at gym, we would be playing -”

“Dodgeball.” They both finished. Scott laid back down on his floor. Stiles almost did the same, but thought against it as he said, “Wait, this is actually awesome.”

“Since when is dodgeball awesome, Jackson and Danny and Boyd the Bully are gonna pound us senseless like they always do-”

“Scott, where have you been for the past day?” Scott blinked a few times. Stiles couldn’t really be saying what he thinks he’s saying.

“I can’t wolf out during gym, Stiles.” and how did they get back on the wolf topic?

“So don’t, I didn’t see any claws when you tossed Jackson today, that was awesome by the way and I almost missed it because of that malevolent Mr. Harrison. I swear my dad must have pants him in grade school or something. That guy hates me for no reason.”

“I’m sure he has reasons.”

“No good reasons. So you gonna do a reenactment of the Jackson toss tomorrow, or what?”

“I don’t know, it seems too risky.”

“Well, if you think you’re about to sprout sideburns, just think of me.” Scott laughed. they continued to talk for hours. About school. About how much better Scott was going to be at everything. Before long, there was only a few more hours left before they would have to be awake and getting ready for school. They were on the topic of what a werewolf version of dodgeball would look like when they heard Scott’s mom pull up. Scott heard it first, he jumped into his bed and Stiles crawled under it. Minutes later, Ms. McCall could be heard climbing the stairs and entering her son’s room. She knelt under the bed and smiled at Stiles. Then she glared. 

“One, I don’t allow sleep overs on school nights, and you know that, and two, if you want to spend the night, then you have to, at least, let your father know, so he doesn’t get worried about where you are, okay?” She whispered. Stiles solemnly nodded. He didn’t like upsetting his dad. Or receiving the rare Ms. McCall lecture.

“Sorry, we didn’t plan on this.”

“You usually don’t.” Melissa then gave a small, truer smile and straightened up. “And I mean it about the sleep overs, Scott.”

“Sorry, Mom.” Melissa sighed. She had done what she could and now all she wanted to do was to go to sleep. 

The rest of the morning involved getting ready for school and then actually getting to school. It was strange to think he was just here yesterday. Everything looked and felt different. And not just because he was sleep deprived or a werewolf, but because he knew. He knew so much, he knew the Hales were back in town and about the fire others only speculated about. He knew about this whole other world, almost, about this culture of people he had only been admiring from afar.

“Good morning, Scott, sleep well?” Erica Reyes asked him. He also knew he wasn’t alone. He inhaled the wet fur and dirt and some citrus-y scent that was coming off of Erica. He wasn’t alone, but part of a pack. Wait, when had he decided to join Peter? He’s still confused about when he made this decision the others already think he has made. He just met the guy, officially, yesterday, shouldn’t there be a free trial period first, just to see how things go?

“Scott?”

“Huh?”

“My eyes are up here.”

“What no, I wasn’t... who’s your alpha?”

“I see someone’s been doing his homework. Who do you want it to be?”

“Uh... I really don’t have a preference or anything, between them.”

“That’s nice to hear; Peter’s all yours, while you would have to share Derek.” Erica was close enough to make Scott wonder if his personal boundaries had disappeared with the bit of his humanity that the wolf took over. He also wondered what else he smelt like besides, most likely, dirt and wet fur. Even within the tight space, Stiles managed to pop his head in between the two.

“Derek, why are we mentioning him, first thing, in the morning. Is he here? Do werewolves come out during the day? Wolfs, in general, like to hunt at, ow!” Stiles glared at Erica.

“Watch your language.”

“Use your words.. first. Anyway,” Stiles glanced at Erica, either out of weariness or because he was wondering why she was still there. Whichever the case, Erica responded by rolling her eyes, flashing a smile and a small wave at Scott, glaring at Stiles and walking away. 

“Oh, and Scott, Derek wanted me to tell you, about that family in town who likes to break certain laws regarding the treatment of wolf people. They go by the French name for silver, and I do believe you have a class with the family’s daughter, next. So please, be careful, and more importantly, keep _that_ one quiet.” Erica had looked at Stiles when she said “that one” and she was already down the hall and yet Scott could still hear her perfectly. Not gonna lie, he felt a little like Superman for the moment.

“Scott!” Stiles was waving his hands in front of his face. 

“What?” Then Erica’s words sunk in.

“You spaced out a-”

“What’s the French word for silver?”

“No clue, I took Spanish, remember. You took French.” The boys were making their way back to their first shared class. English. As Stiles talked, he was also removing something from his backpack as it hung on his left shoulder. As soon as Scott figured out what he was doing, he internally kicked himself. The essay. The one he should have been working on instead of wandering around the streets at night and getting bit by zombie werewolves. All Scott could do was duck his head while Stiles handed in his paper.

“Scott?”

“Yes?”

“Are you forgetting something?”

“Good morning?”

“Where’s your essay?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I got kidnapped yesterday? So, I had no time-”

“You were in class yesterday.”

“Yesterday after school.”

“I gave the assignment two weeks ago.”

“My dog ate it.”

“His dog named Derek. Ugly mutt of a thing.” Stiles chipped in. 

“Just get it in to me, Scott. It’s a whole letter grade off for each day late.” Scott nodded while his classmates shook their heads and snickered at him. It wasn’t like him to not turn in an assignment on time, but at least he gave his class something to chuckle at this early in the day. Scott sat down as Allison entered. And at least she didn’t see his humiliation. 

“Oh, here.” Scott looked at Stiles and then at the school photo of Stiles that he had put on his desk, and back again. Stiles was grinning wide at him. Scott frowned.

“I thought we agreed we weren’t going to exchange school photos anymore.” By now, the two had mastered whispering so they could actually hold conversations as long as the teacher didn’t look their way. They had the low volume down, but it was only achieved when they leaned their heads towards each other in an obvious “talking to each other” stance. 

“This isn’t an exchange, it’s a gift. It’s, you know, to help you think of me during times of hardship.”

“Of hardship?”

“Or times of wer, of wolf,” Stiles rubbed his arm where Erica had pinched him. “Look, it’s simple, when you feel like killing people, look at me, and just like last night, the urge shall go away.”

“You mean last night, as in when I did see you and tried to kill you?

“Well, when you put it like that.”

“Cause that’s what happened.”

“Well, smarty pants, then tell me, how did you snap out of it?” It was a direct question. Scott knew the answer or, at least, he thought he did. And for the first time since he met Stiles, he hesitated, he internally debated if he should share his thoughts. For the first time, he didn’t want to. 

“I don't-” He has also never lied to Stiles and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. “It wasn’t you. It was this.” Scott then pulled out the bag of mini muffins Stiles had given him that morning. Scott had stuffed the snack pack into the pocket of his hoodie, knowing they were the reason behind his de-transformation. 

“No food in class, Scott.” The teacher said, and he immediately put it back in his pocket. Stiles would start and then not speak. After a few more tries, his eyes, never leaving the spot where the snack had been, he leaned in and he finally managed, “Are you telling me that if you had to choose between killing your best friend or a brunch snack, that you would spare the mini muffins?” His voice was raising, causing a few students to look their way, including Allison, who sat diagonally to him.

“Shhh, and no, of course not, it’s just the smell... it made the anger go away.”

“The smell... ah, I get it, the smell triggers your hunger and your drive to eat overrides your drive to kill, thus shutting down wolf Scott, gotcha.” Scott, once again, faced a sharing dilemma. “I’ll bulk order these things at lunch. We should get some muffin smelling candles for your room. Is it just muffins or will any food work?”

Isaac entered the classroom just as the bell rang, signaling the start of class. 

“It has to be muffins.” Today was a discussion class, so the boys didn’t have a chance to talk again until it ended. Scott also wanted to say something to Isaac, about last night, about snapping at him, but he didn’t get the chance to, since Isaac bolted from the room the second the bell rang. Not only did Scott feel guilty about last night, but he was also mad at himself. Here was possibly the only guy in the world who knew exactly what Scott was going through (being bitten on the same night and all), and Scott had managed to scare him off. 

“So about the muffins,” Stiles began as they entered the hallway and made their way to the gym. “Is it some childhood thing, maybe related to your mom, your dad?”

“Can we not talk about this?”

“Not talk about the thing that could keep you from killing me?”

“Erica said we have to be careful. There’s a... someone that was in our English class is the daughter of,” Scott looked around, but he wasn’t even sure who he was suppose to be looking out for. “a hunter.”

“What? When did she say that? Did she say who? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I bet it’s Mackenzie, Coach almost put her on the guys’ lacrosse team last year because of how aggressive she was, remember that?” The boys entered the locker room, they changed, then entered the gym. Stiles nudged Scott as the teacher, Coach Finstock, went over the rules of dodgeball. “Look.”

“What?”

“Your whole pack’s here.” Scott looked around and indeed, this was a class they had with Erica, Boyd, and even Isaac was there. How did this not come up in their “werewolf version of dodgeball” discussion? “You think it’ll be okay?”

“What?”

“For all three of you to play an aggressive, anger induing sport like dodgeball?” 

“Stilinski, since you can’t be bothered to listen or shut up, I’ll not only make you captain, but nobody on your team will get to start with a ball, sound fair?” 

“No, not really.”

“Get over here!” Stiles ran over to where the coach was pointing. “WELL?” And Stiles then quickly... and happily picked Scott to be on his team first. Jackson, naturally the other captain, picked his best friend as well, Danny. Stiles then made it a point to pick all the wolves. It looked like even Isaac was surprised to be picked so quickly (third).

Once the class was divided and the balls handed to only one side, the whistle blew and the game began. It didn’t take too long for most of Team Stiles to get knocked out. It was only thanks to Scott that Stiles was still in the game after the first minute. He wasn’t so lucky by the second, and that was only because Scott had been too busy throwing two balls at the same time to save him. By the third minute, Coach stopped yelling “Out”. And Scott found the time to assess his team. Only the wolves were left. He looked across the way and saw Jackson do the same. However his group was more startling to Scott. Jackson and Danny made sense, they were athletes. But Lydia Martin? None of his pack -Derek’s pack - Stiles’s team were able to hit her? And Allison? Okay, so maybe he had been purposely avoiding hitting Allison, but what about the others? Not that it would surprise him if everyone loved Allison.

The minutes ticked by without anyone getting out. This went on for a while. 

“.... I saw something yellow in the eyes of Lahey.” Scott picked up Danny muttering to Jackson. Yellow. Isaac. Scott chucked a ball at Danny and he dashed over to Isaac. Unfortunately, he chucked it so hard at Danny’s legs that Danny’s legs were pushed under him and he landed hard on the ground, face first. Isaac’s eyes were indeed yellow. But they changed back to blue when the whistle blew. Damn it, will that never not hurt his ears? 

“All right, way to play the game, McCall. Jackson, help your teammate off the field.” They had a few seconds before the game began again. But before Scott could tell Isaac that he needed to calm down, Stiles was waving his hands and running onto the “field”. 

“What?”

“Dude, I looked it up. Silver.” Stiles held up his phone. Isaac looked over Scott’s shoulder. The phone’s screen held one word: Argent. “And I think she’s not the only one.” Scott looked back across the taped divide. At Allison Argent. And at her friends. 

“Stilinski, get off the field!”

“Yes, sir! Scott, you need to be careful, if she finds out... and stop wolfing out, would you? Even I can see it, you don’t think a hunter will?” He directed the last at Isaac. 

“Hunter?” Was all Isaac wondered, though Scott saw his eyes glance across the divide.

“Stilinski, get off the field before I throw a ball at you!” Stiles took off. And Scott wearily looked at his teammates and the remaining three players on the other side. Jackson was staring right at him, he looked furious. This was not going to end well. 

RIIIIIIING. Oh thank the time lords. Gym was over. There were groans from the students who had been enjoying the show, even Coach stomped his foot. Since they all lost track of time, though only their teacher was suppose to be paying attention, the students only had a few minutes to change and get to their next classes. There was no time to talk, to discuss the fact that Allison Argent was a werewolf hunter. 

And the nightmare continues. Maybe Scott was becoming numb to shocking news, for the moment, all he could do was process what Stiles had shown him. Scott had this Romeo and Juliet type fantasy when he thought of Allison sometimes. There were masquerades (Halloween parties) and late night swims (it was in the Leonardo DiCaprio version) and it was all the passion and none of the family/murder sub plot. Their love would be so strong; they would die for each other. There was certainly no version of that tale where Juliet hunts downs and kills Romeo. 

And what about the others who had managed to dodge balls flung by werewolves? He wouldn’t be surprised if Jackson was a heartless killer, or if that was the ONLY reason Allison gave him the time of day, something he’s always wondered about. Yet, he couldn’t imagine Lydia with a weapon in her hand, and Danny, Danny was too sweet to illegally hunt after anything... after anyone. Then again, Allison was sweet too. 

Scott was utterly and thoroughly depressed. Could his day get any worse. Jackson then walked by, purposely pushing into his shoulder. 

“See you at practice, McCall.” Scott figured even if Jackson wasn’t a hunter or had no clue Scott was a wolf, he would still attack him for what he did to Danny, or the fact that Scott made Co-Captain, or because Jackson woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Maybe a repeat of the Jackson toss yesterday _was_ in order.

Scott wasn’t feeling any better by lacrosse practice after school. Practices get switched to afternoons on Fridays, just so they can run a little longer if needed. Scott wanted it to be as short as possible, for one, Jackson still looked ready to beat him to death with a netted stick. Also, everybody liked Danny, so everybody was mad at Scott for what he did to Danny, despite ball hitting having been the object of the game. Plus, Stiles was once again trying to bring up the muffin thing (since it wasn’t safe to talk about the hunter thing), and Isaac didn’t even show up for practice. Did he even make the team this year? He wasn’t at tryouts. 

He somehow managed to shirk off Jackson, mainly by being put in goal, and avoid Stiles, mainly by not being on the bench, and all thoughts related to hunters and and Isaac and muffins were effectively pushed aside as his team became a bit shot happy. It didn’t help that his new found agility made it hard for his teammates to score. At one point, Coach said they must be out of practice if “McCall” could stop the ball. Yeah, that really didn’t help things. Coach then had the brilliant idea to just have everyone line up and take shots at goal, since they were clearly rusty. 

Scott forced himself to miss a few. But there was no way he would let Jackson’s ball get by. Jackson started to run at him. Before he knew what he was doing, he was running out of the goalie position. They collided. He landed on top of Jackson. Stiles ran out onto the field waving a bag of mini muffins in the air. But Scott didn’t need the reinforcement. He could already smell it. On Jackson. Jackson smelled like muffins. But there was also a small trace of dirt, and wet fur, of Isaac. 

“Wow, Scott, you’re, like, a werewolf for a day, and you’re already sniffing people.” 

“How do you-”

“Lahey told me, and unless you want the whole world to know about your little pack, I suggest you do one thing.”

“What?”

“GET. OFF. ME.” Scott did just that. But now he felt just as confused and slightly scared as before. Isaac told Jackson about them? Why? Did that mean Jackson wasn’t a hunter? Did that mean Jackson and Isaac were friends? Did he smell like Stiles? He had to know. 

When practice ended, he purposely took his time, watching everyone file out, watching Jackson. Jackson was also taking his time. Perhaps he knew that Scott wanted to ask him roughly one hundred questions.

“So, are we going to Peter’s now?” Stiles asked as he brought his backpack to his shoulder.

“Not now.”

“Got work?”

“Stiles.”

“Yeah, man?”

“Go.”

“What... do you need another sniff of muffin?”

“Will you shut up about the damn muffins, it’s not the muffins okay!”

“But-”

“Look, there’s not enough time to explain it all, so just listen now. Allison and Lydia know about Hale House and wolves, and Allison Argent is part of a werewolf killing family. She is totally not gonna go out with me now. And Jackson knows about Isaac and me and pack, and he smells like Isaac and Isaac smells like muffins, okay, he does. And he was at my house last night, only I scared him off. And what is with the fact that everyone smells like food or something? And I can hear down hallways and outside when I’m inside, and I wasn’t even trying when I power tripped Danny-”

“I don’t think you understand the term “power trip.”

“And there isn’t even any time to freak out over any of this because of school and essays and practice and work and, oh yeah, I have to go back to my Peter’s house and, oh, and I’ve gotten all possessive over a guy I just met two days ago and I don’t know why and it scares me because Peter scares me and every other thing I think and do scares me, okay? You get it now? Is there anything else you’d like to know?” Damn, that felt great to get out. Stiles was silent for a moment, taking it all in. Scott mentally braced himself for the onslaught of questions. 

“What do I smell like?”Thank god that Stiles is his best friend, the dude can adapt to anything.

“Chocolate.”

“Awesome.”

“That’s it?”

“Well... okay yeah, it’s... okay... to not feel... okay? I don’t know, Scott, I get that it’s a lot, as for the Argent thing and the heightened senses thing, well, that’s what Peter’s house is for, right? And whatever happens, whatever stuff you’re feeling and such, we’ll figure it all out and get through that too. It’ll be okay. I mean, if Erica and Boyd and Isaac can make it as enhanced wolf people, then why can’t you?”

“I guess.”

“Well, I know. so, come on, let us go out into the new wolf world, and you be the best-”

“Jackson.”

“I was gonna go with “hairy man”, wait, is Jackson a-”

“Shhh...” Scott started to sniff the air some more. He hadn’t heard the door open or close, so he should still be in here. Through the stench of his teammates long gone, he picked up another scent. He got an idea. He grabbed Stiles by the front of his shirt and brought him to the corner of the room. Stiles didn’t have to be told to be quiet, Scott’s demeanor said it all. The scent got stronger as the door to the locker room opened. Stiles mouthed a, “Who” and Scott mouthed an “Isaac”, Stiles lifted his hands up in a, “then why are we hiding?” gesture. Scott held his hand up in a “wait, I need to focus” way. He then told Stiles to “stay”. Having snuck around places with Stiles before, he knew it wasn’t his friend’s forte. He also knew he wouldn’t get to the bottom of this Jackson/Isaac thing by confronting it head on. For one, Jackson hated him, and two, Isaac wasn’t really talking to him either. 

He didn’t know why their connection bothered him. But it did. He didn’t know Isaac very well, but he knew Jackson, so maybe it was a wolf thing, that he didn’t like the idea of Jackson messing with one of his own. But the way Jackson said Isaac’s name... like it was a word his tongue was used to saying.

Scott followed Isaac to the shower area of the locker room. He crept along and waited. He could smell Jackson in there, he picked up that distinct copper/penny smell. He waited. Nothing happened. He didn’t want to just stick his head in the area and risk getting caught peeping by a, probably, naked Jackson.

Then he heard Jackson say,” Why didn’t you come to practice?”

“I’m not on the team this year.” was Isaac’s answer.

“So, I am.”

“Too risky anyway, just gym made me...”

“I know, you’re lucky I was there to convince Danny that only an insane person would bother turning you into a wolf man. Did McCall and Stilinski leave yet?”

“Didn’t see them.” Couldn’t Isaac have waited until Jackson was out of the shower to have this conversation?

“Good.” Scott ventured a look into the room. Jackson was at a shower, naked, under a stream of water. Isaac, fully clothed, was also getting wet as he hugged Jackson from behind. And then Scott ran. He ran out of the locker room and out of the building. It was the only thing he could think to do to fight the voice in the back of his head that kept telling him to kill Jackson. Running was the only thing stopping him from doing so.


	4. Facing Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott has done wrong. Derek tries to fix it. Peter stirs up trouble. And Stiles hears shocking news. Not in that order.

Melissa McCall entered her house later that night exhausted. It had been another long, hard work day, and the only bright side was that it was over. She had a pillow and a romance novel awaiting her in her bedroom. It was good to be home. She drifted up the stairs and paused at her son’s door, even if it had been closed, she would have checked in. But it was open... ever since Scott hit puberty it was an unspoken rule that Scott’s door remained closed for any activity where his bed is involved, sleep counted. She looked in. It was empty. Other Moms might panic or worry, or fear their sons had been kidnapped, or killed. Melissa just sighed, took out her cell phone, and hit a familiar contact number.

“Sorry to call so late, but, is he?” She got the confirmation from a sleepy Sheriff that, yes, her idiot son had decided to spend the night at his friend’s house without informing her first. Well, at least it was Friday. She told the Sheriff he had her permission to wake them up at dawn or he could guilt trip her son if he wanted. The Sheriff was silent after her joke, it was a dreadful silence.

“I don’t know if I should tell you this or if Scott would want to, but, well, they won’t tell me exactly what happened, but-”

“What?”

“I heard him crying. Stiles says something happened at school, he accidentally hurt a friend during gym, but I don’t know the whole story.”

“Is he all right, is the friend all right?” Melissa had gone from slightly annoyed to full blown worry laced with panic mode. “Should I come over? I’m coming over.”

“No, no, that’s not necessary, I mean, you can if you want, of course, I just mean... I think it’s just one of those melodramatic teenage things. Stiles has literally cried over computer games.” The panic mode had shifted from red to orange. If it was anything truly serious, the Sheriff would tell her. Still, she didn’t like the idea of her son hurting over anything.

Melissa McCall did not have an easy sleep that night; her son didn’t sleep at all.

In fact, Scott was still awake, though barely, when the alarm in his best friend’s room went off, signaling the start of the weekend, and that Stiles had forgotten to turn his phone’s programmed alarm system off. It wasn't so much an alarm, as an annoying, peppy jingle. Scott turned off the phone. Stiles hadn’t even twitched at the sound.

Scott raised up from the bed. He wanted to take a shower, needed to really. He needed eight showers, clearly, the two he had already taken had done nothing to dampen the smell of earth and wet fur that filled his every intake of breath. That and the scent of blood. 

He had run out of the locker room. He only stopped running because, well, the school was still located in the middle of nowhere, so where would he run to? Each step he took lessened his murderous intentions. By the time he stopped, he was more upset and confused than vengeful. And he was mainly confused as to why he felt vengeful. 

And, of course, his great escape had been heard. Even people with normal hearing would have heard his sneakers on the tiled hallways, on the paved steps, on the cemented parking lot. He shouldn’t have been surprised that he was followed, that Isaac Lahey voice was filling his ears in-between the sounds of his own exhausted body. It was possible to be a wolf, a jock, and still be out of shape. The adage of being a wolf was that it didn’t take long for his body to adjust, to adapt, to return to a normal rhythm. 

It allowed him to clearly hear Isaac repeat, “Scott, please.” Scott slowly turned around. This was the opposite of what he had wanted. To run away was to be away from the situation and all the people involved in it. Now he was directly facing Isaac, also known as the reason he had witnessed some R rated hugging only moments ago. Isaac was still wet. “You can’t say anything, you can’t tell anyone.” Now that his body had settled, his recharged mind went into overdrive. Piece, meet your piece soul mate. Now you’re a whole picture.

“That’s why you told him.” That’s why Isaac had told Jackson everything.

“What?”

“You and him, but, Isaac, he’s a hunter, or at least he’s friends with Allison, who is a hunter!” Did he know this, or was Scott the last werewolf in town to know.

“I know.” Figures.

“And he knows you’re a werewolf?”

“Wolf person, and yes, I told him Thursday night, after I visited you.”

“But why?”

“It’s hard to explain, and it’s really none of your business. I just need you to not tell anyone, okay? Especially not the pack. They wouldn’t understand.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He won’t hurt us, he only trains with the Argents for the exercise. He doesn’t hate wolf people. He actually wouldn’t mind being one. In fact, he said he likes that I am.” The idea of Jackson desiring to be a genetically enhanced human with a tendency to be deathly violent was so believable that Scott could easily envision the man making frequent scouting trips to the Hale House, hoping for such a dream to come true. 

Unfortunately, he also envisioned that damned shower hug again because of the last thing Isaac said. And maybe that’s why the words, “But he’s a jackass.” slipped out. Isaac gave a small smile.

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one. I just want you to promise-”

“Yeah, okay, I won’t tell anyone. But I want you to know that I don’t like it.”

“Because you don’t trust Jackson, or you don’t trust me?”

“Him, definitely him.” The devil heard his cue and he exited the school building. Scott heard the door close and his other senses told him it was Jackson. 

“Well, hopefully, one day I can change your mind.”

“Likewise.” Both men watched Jackson get into his car and drive off. Isaac’s head lowered a bit more than it already was. And Scott’s ears were being filled with his own rapid heartbeat again. 

 

Melissa McCall woke up to the sound of a loud bell. Well, that’s not what her alarm sounds like. Once she recognized the sound, she yelled for her son to open the door. It took two more rings for her to remember her son was out. Damn, of all the days. Melissa yelled she was coming, though she doubted the visitor could hear her. 

Eerily, the ringing stopped anyway. She wondered if they were still there, waiting, as she descended the stairs. 

 

Scott didn’t make it to the bathroom to shower, not when the door to Stiles’s room opened and Derek Hale came in. 

“Good morning, sleep well?” Scott’s sleep deprived brain was cracking. He should be on high alert, mentally prepared for whatever was about to take place, not moseying down memory lane. Not making the connection as to why Derek would be here and focusing on it. 

Derek had sent him to Isaac’s house. When they had arrived at the Hale House later that evening, Derek had tried to send Stiles home, and he sent Scott to go get Isaac. He said it was a practical way to practice tracking, as well as testing his speed and agility. Stiles was rambling on about not being in the mood to be told off, about having already been intimidated by a naked, angry Jackson, so Derek could just put his teeth away. Scott reveled in being able to hear the conversation slash confrontation while being two miles away. 

Picking up Isaac’s scent was the easy part, detecting, or following the person with the scent was much harder. Since Isaac was a relatively normal teenager, who owned a bike and lived in town, his scent was everywhere. He knew it would be strong in the direction of the school, but unless he also lived near there Scott knew that wasn’t the way. It was also hard to sniff the air strongly and run at the same time, and map where he wanted to go while seeing where he was currently going. Trees would be run into, bushes would temporarily trip him, and he completely missed the huge, nature made, as in created by jagged boulders, trench, until after he was falling into it. That one hurt. 

By the time he made it to some streets that smelled strongly of Isaac, every article of clothing he had put on that day, including his socks, had been torn. There was dried blood splotches in various places, but he still walked nimbly enough that he looked like a guy who had gotten carried away with scissors and some red paint. It was also getting dark. He also realized he had missed his work shift, again, that he had forgotten to call in, again. He feels pretty much fired by this point. He doesn’t feel disappointed with himself; he’s relieved actually. It was one less thing to worry about, be responsible for. If he wasn’t fired, he should quit. 

A street led to a house, Isaac’s scent was all over the house, but it was strongest, it was alive, in the house across the street, the one that smelled like Jackson. He should really get a mini pad and write down what everyone smells like for future reference. He caught movement on the roof of Jackson’s house. He impulsively went to it. He automatically jumped up and pulled himself onto the roof. He immediately looked up, over, straight, and slightly up again, into wide blue eyes that reflected his own surprise and a tiny distorted image of himself. He wondered if Isaac could be seen in his eyes.

He also wondered what the hell Isaac was doing on Jackson’s roof. 

“What are you doing here?” Isaac asked what he was thinking, though Scott now felt he was the only one doing something intrusive here. 

“Ummm...I... Derek sent me. You were suppose to stop by the Hale House today.”

“I know, I was planning on staying there tonight. Why? Is something happening now? Why didn’t he just call me?” The light in the room behind Isaac turned on. 

“Did you just come from in there?” Scott could hear a door close from inside the house and multiple feet on a staircase. 

“No, I just got here. We can leave.” Isaac made his way to the edge of the roof. He didn’t jump down. Another door opened and closed. Scott peeked over the edge of the roof. He saw the back of Jackson. He saw the back of Lydia Martin. It didn’t look or smell like they had been inside doing homework. The long kiss shared before Lydia got in her car suggested otherwise as well. “Hey, calm down.” Scott finally looked at Isaac who was looking at him, well, a part of him. He hadn’t even felt his claws come out. Yet, there they were, poking through his skin, thick and pointed. 

“Isaac.” Scott drew back and out of Jackson’s eyesight. He tried to take deep breaths and will his claws away. Isaac looked back at Scott, who nodded for him to go, before he jumped off the roof. “Look, I’m gonna need like an hour. Lydia just left.”

“I saw. I have to go anyway.”

“Whatever, just be back here tonight. I can’t wait to see how much your new body can take.”

“I actually came over here to tell you... we shouldn’t.”

“What?”

“I don’t think... more often than not... I don’t feel like kissing you so much as I feel like...”

“Sometime today, Isaac.”

“Killing you.”

“Well, you just turned, I’m sure that’s all it is, don’t worry about it.” 

“Yeah, but then there’s-”

“I said don’t worry about it. Now, didn’t you say you had somewhere you needed to be?” Scott saw Isaac nod his head. There was heat in Scott’s hands and blood in his ears. He very much wanted to kill Jackson again. This time, he wasn’t sure if it was his or the wolf’s desire to.

Whomever’s idea it was, his whole body was in agreement as he made his way to Jackson’s window, as he let himself in.

“Scott!” Derek’s voice broke through the memory and Scott’s mind was back in Stiles’s room. Derek had his hands on his shoulders. His was gripping him hard, but not in a way that meant to cause pain, but more in a way that said Derek wasn’t paying attention to how much strength he was using. 

“Whaaa... time... Saturday... Derek, go back to- DEREK!” Stiles had officially woken up. He pulled his comforter up to his chin as he got up to stand next to his bed. “Hi, did my dad let you in?”

“Your dad is asleep, I let myself in.”

“Oh, okay. Do your claws double as a lock pick or something?”

“No, but they can be used to tare your mouth off.”

“I don't see how that could help you enter a house.” By now, Stiles had ditched the blanket and he now stood beside, more like a little bit behind and to the right of Scott, to be safe. 

“Why _are_ you in his house?” Scott felt the need to butt in, if he didn’t, the fight would either continue or turn violent, both outcomes were bleak. 

“I want to know what happened last night.” Scott’s tough resolve faded. He looked to the floor for the words he needed. 

“What do you mean, you were there.”

“Yeah, I was, and I saw you... about to... rip...” uh, the floor is blurring into memory, here we go again. 

Jackson entered his bedroom feeling quite pleased with himself, his life, his everything. He had an amazing, hott girlfriend, who he just had sex with. And then there was Isaac, his awkward neighbor, who used to be his guilty pleasure, but after Isaac’s transformation, which, to be honest, he was more than a little jealous of, he would simply be his newest pleasure. Or he will be tonight.

Jackson heard the low growl when he shut his door. He looked to his left just in time to see a yellow eyed, hairy... Scott McCall, leapt at him.

Isaac was standing outside waiting for Scott and thinking about Jackson, and thinking about what he had been about to say to Jackson before he had interrupted him, which also revolved around Scott. A lot of his thoughts lately have been revolving around Scott. While he wondered if Scott was gay, he heard Jackson scream. He got into Jackson’s room just in time to see Scott sink his teeth into Jackson’s neck and pull back, taking a chunk of Jackson’s neck with him. 

“NO! STOP!” Scott growled as he sunk his claws into Jackson’s chest. Three days ago, Isaac would have panicked, stood frozen in fear, but his newly acquired instincts had him out of the window even before he realized what he was doing, or why he was howling.

He was calling for help, he was calling his Alpha. 

“SCOTT, are you even listening?” Memory fade. Don’t ask how Scott’s memory has multiple perspectives. It just does. Derek was in his face, his vision, again, and this time Stiles had a hand on his shoulder. A loud bang at the door stilled all further thoughts and actions.

“Son, is everything okay?” Stiles raised both his hands in frantic disbelief. He hit Derek on his shoulder with the back of his hand when he walked by, which earned him a glare. Stiles then gestured for everyone to move out of the pathway of the door. Having to explain the shocked-out Scott that had been covered in blood and ripped clothes had been one thing (and he didn’t know if his dad even bought the gym lie), but a 20 - something year old man randomly in his room in the morning, was another... well, he could think of a lie, just not one Derek wouldn’t kill him for if he said it. 

Derek moved against the wall, near him, and Scott stayed where he was. It would have to do. Stiles opened his door.

“What, yeah, hey, morning.”

“I heard yelling.”

“Yeah, that was just the TV-”

“You don’t have a TV.”

“And by “TV”, I mean the Netflicks on my computer, geez, Dad, keep up with the times.” 

“Alright, alright. Just keep it down, some of us are trying to sleep more than four hours today. Oh, and Scott’s mom called, so she’s no longer worried about him.”

“That’s great.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Thank you.” Stiles really wanted to shut the door now, but his dad wasn’t moving. 

“How - how is he?”

“Who, oh, oh, Scott, he’s fine, yeah, as you can see,” Stiles opened the door wider, letting Scott’s prone figure come into view. He looked like a hott mess who had been up all night and just got yelled at. He looked the opposite of fine. “See, Mr. Sunshine, himself.” Mr. Stilinski was not amused. He waited patiently for the truth. He didn’t get why, after all these years, he son ever bothered to lie to him. Stiles blocked Scott from view again and leaned in towards his dad. “Okay, so he’s not quote on quote fine, but he will be. He just needs... time... and to not be asked a bunch of questions about yesterday, okay?”

“He shouldn’t be anywhere near you then.”

“Please, of course I already know what happened; best friend privileges.” Though that wasn’t entirely true. Last night when Scott burst into Stiles’s room with his clothes all torn and bloody without a single scratch on him, he had only said the words “Isaac. Killed Jackson. I”, before collapsing into tears. Stiles, for all his constant need for knowledge, also knew when to not ask questions, of when his friend needed silence. Though with the new pieces of information he had gathered from Derek’s questions, he now knew it was Scott, and not Isaac, who had killed Jackson. His mind refused to move past that thought to any deeper implications. His best friend was not a murderer. Period.

His father finally let him go and he was able to shut the door. Derek was closer than he remembered and it made him jump. 

“What did happen last night?” Derek changed his tactic from getting answers out of the still traumatized Scott to Stiles. Stiles did not appreciate the shift, especially since he had no helpful answers. 

“I don’t know, you were there, supposedly.”

“I got there when Jackson was already a breath away from death, bleeding out all over his floor. I want to know what happened before that.”

“Did he really kill Jackson?” 

“He could have. Luckily, I got there in time to-”

“He’s not dead?” Scott was done moving in and out of memory lane. Stiles wasn’t sure how many times his friend’s brain would torture him with instant replays of whatever happened last night, but he hoped it would end soon. Scott looked paler with each replay. Derek only nodded in the affirmative. 

“Why were you there, at Jackson’s, do you like... stalk your betas?” Stiles could breathe and think properly again now that it was confirmed that his best friend hadn’t killed anyone.

“Isaac called me.”

“Where is Isaac?” Scott asked as Stiles opened his mouth.

“Far away from you. Until the both of you learn to control your shifts, your emotions, I don’t want you two near each other.”

“As touching as your concern for your beta is, where the hell is Peter in all this? I mean, isn’t Scott his beta, shouldn’t he be here consoling or scolding his pup for almost killing someone?” Stiles had wondered about Peter shortly after seeing Derek. And honestly, Stiles preferred Peter; he was the nicer one. So far.

Derek rolled his eyes and looked at Scott. “Peter went to do just that, but I followed your scent here. And like _he_ just pointed out, Isaac is MY beta, so I have a right to know what happened too.”

“Why don’t you just ask Isaac?”

“Because he said he didn’t know why Scott would want to rip Jackson’s throat out with his teeth. Which, once again, brings us back to the opening question. Scott, what happened last night?” Derek said everything slowly; it was hard to tell if it was for his benefit or theirs. 

It was a question Scott couldn’t answer. Not because he didn’t want to, but because last night it all happened so fast. He remembers seeing Isaac on the roof, and Jackson with Lydia, and Jackson with Isaac, and then it all becomes a red, nightmarish blur. Next thing he knows, he is being thrown across a room into a wall. There is a bloody, torn up Jackson-looking body on the floor. There is blood everywhere, on the floor, the walls, the bed. Derek is there and he is yelling at Scott to go, to run. Scott does. He sees Isaac outside the window, on the roof, looking in. He looks terrified. He looks terrified of Scott. He backs up into the outer wall of the house as Scott makes his exit. Scott wants to stay, but he forces himself to go. It wasn’t until he reached Stiles’s house that he noticed all the new blood on himself, the blood that reeked of Jackson. He could taste his blood on his tongue. He did it. He killed Jackson. 

Now he knew better, that Jackson was still alive, that lessened the weight in his shoulders, the pain in his chest, the lead in his legs, the cotton in his brain, somewhat. He still felt like shit, twice run over. He had all the pieces but he still didn’t know why he did what he did. Just that he was capable of doing it. He needed sleep, another shower, maybe a bath, some therapy, his mother. He should have gone home, to his mom... 

“Wait, what did you say Peter was doing?”

“What? Just answer the question!” Derek was losing any patience he may have possessed.

“He was going to talk to me, right? Was he going to my house?”

“Well, where else, Scott, where are you going? Scott?” Scott had already jumped out of Stiles’s window. Stiles ran over and was trying to gracefully ease himself out as well. Derek grabbed him. “Where is he going?”

“Don’t you get it, Scott’s mom is at Scott’s house and if his ways of questioning are anything like yours.” That earned Stiles a glare and he was unceremoniously tossed back into his bedroom.

“Use the stairs.” Derek said as he took hold of the window ledge himself. Stiles watched him jump down before he hurried out of his room to the stairs. 

Sheriff Stilinski heard a thud. Then he heard a bigger thud. He made his way to his bedroom window as he heard someone descend the stairs in the hallway. He decided to go with his instincts and stayed by the window. When he looked out, he saw a man he has never seen before standing in front of his house. He heard the front door close. He caught his son, dressed in only his underwear and a t-shirt, running from the house to his jeep with the unknown man following. Mr. Stilinski has seen his son dressed in similar bedtime attire to go buy certain video games. But he had a feeling that that wasn’t what was happening. He didn’t know if it was better if he knew what was going on or not. He’d figure it out eventually. He always does. He better go check to see if Scott left too. 

 

It was either take Stiles’s car, or have Derek give him a piggyback... wolffyback ride to Scott’s house. For whatever reason, it didn’t cross either of their minds that Derek could have simply left without him. At least, not until Derek refused to buckle up. 

“Why don’t you just run after Scott? Why come with me? I’m warming up to you, aren’t I?” Stiles said as he started the car.

“There isn’t enough time to explain, and one of you idiots need to know now.”

“What is it?” Stiles pushed his humor back.

“First of all, Scott’s mom is not in danger, but you should still drive faster than this-”

“My dad’s the Sheriff, every cop in town knows my car, there is no way-”

“Then maybe this will make you drive faster; it’s about Peter, neither you nor Scott should trust him, ever. I don’t even trust him.”

“You just said his mom wasn’t in danger. Wait, this wouldn’t have anything to do with why you’re both alphas? He killed an alpha didn’t he, did you?” Derek breathed out loudly. Stiles told himself to pace his questions, people tend to get annoyed by that. 

“I obtained my alpha status by setting Peter on fire and slashing his throat, by killing him.” Only one way to deal with that kind of news.

“And a bang up job you did there... wait, so he is a zombie werewolf!”

“Will you shut up and just drive!” Stiles nodded enthusiastically. “Peter was dead, but as long as there is a kin or a beta left, an alpha always has the potential to come back, to regenerate.”

“Like a zombie.”

“Like a genetically enhanced wolf person.”

“It’s freaking awesome either way. Kay, so what you’re saying is, you killed your Alpha Uncle, and now you share his power, and now you want me and Scott to trust you and not him, I don’t know, man.” Truthfully, Stiles felt like opening his side door and pushing the murderer out.

“Well, if you let me finish.”

“You’re not finished?”

“I killed Peter out of revenge! He killed Laura, my sister, the last true Hale Alpha.” Derek took a breath. “That’s why I wanted to find Scott first. I don’t know what Peter will do to him. I don’t trust him, and neither should you or Scott.” The intensity as well as the content of Derek’s statement kept Stiles quiet for a few moments. Luckily, they were almost at Scott’s house anyway, so no words were needed. He did nod in agreement though.

 

At Scott’s house, Melissa was nursing a cup of coffee while she tried not to stare too often at her visitor. Mr. Heart introduced himself as a neighbor and friend of her son. In fact, Scott was his reason for his visit. In the last fifteen minutes or so, Melissa had learned a great many things about the son she saw everyday and she thought she had a good, open relationship with. She didn’t know he had gotten a second job helping with the reconstruction of the Hale H- of Mr. Heart’s property. She didn’t know her son was capable of any physical, manual labor; it was just last week she saw him struggling with a few bags of trash. She didn’t know he was stressed about making co-captain of the lacrosse team, or had failed to show up to work for the past two days, or failed to turn in an English essay, or had gotten into a fight last night with Jackson Whittemore while on Mr. Heart’s property. It felt like she was hearing about someone else’s son. Scott, her Scott, got a playing position on the team (well he did practice all summer with Stiles)? And he got into a fight... her Scott? The fact that it was Jackson didn’t surprise her, she had never heard one nice thing come out of her son’s mouth about that boy. 

It was everything else she was having a hard time believing. But why would Mr. Heart lie? And even Mr. Stilinski had said he had seen blood, but wasn’t the story that Scott had hurt a friend at school during gym? Mr. Heart’s story was almost too believable, too convincing, like how when a son breaks a vase, instead of just saying he wasn’t in the room when it happened, his tale has a phone ringing and someone at the door, and a huge bird flying in from an open window all at the same time. 

The same concept applied to Mr. Heart. Maybe life had turned her into a cynic, but the man was too nice, too accommodating, almost too charming to be real. Two teenagers fight on your property when they were suppose to be working, and you show up at a house all smiles and understanding? Not to mention everything else he claimed to know. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just having a hard time believing this. I was told, by a pretty reliable source, that Scott hurt someone at school.”

“I haven’t heard that, I only know of the incident that happened on my property. Is Scott usually prone to violence?”

“No.”

“He is on the lacrosse team though.”

“So, I don’t care if he was doing kick boxing, my son does not get into fights.”

“So you haven’t noticed any changes in him... since his father left.” That threw her. 

“How-”

“Scott and I discuss a lot of things.” And that just hurt. Before she could fire off anything bitter or sarcastic, the front door slammed opened, and in the next second, Scott was standing in the doorway, then in the kitchen fully. 

“Leave her alone.”

“And good morning to you, Scott.” Seeing the anger in her son’s eyes, matched with the wild hair, bloodshot eyes, and tight clothes that clearly weren’t his, and Mr. Heart’s story became a little more believable. Melissa didn’t recognize her son. 

“Scott, what happened?” She stood up, current guest forgotten.

“I’m fine.” Scott held his hand up to stop his mother. “Are you okay?” 

“Y-yes.” She said slowly. Why would he be concerned about her? Their guest was remembered. Mr. Heart’s story went back to the dubious side. “W-”

“I was just telling your mother about the fight that happened on my property, between you and Jackson. I know you don’t like to make your mother worry, but I felt she needed to be told this.” Melissa was only looking at Scott, for a second he looked just as confused as she felt, but then she saw guilt, the kind that comes with recognizing an unsavory truth. He broke the vase.

“Scott, is that what happened, did you get into a fight with Jackson?” Scott had gone from terror fueled rage to slight confusion to deep guilt. He didn’t want his mom involved in any of this. He felt bad enough just knowing he had hurt Jackson, but his mom knowing he hurt someone, even with it being lightened to a “fight” and not “attempted murder” felt like a stab to his chest. He lowered his head as he nodded. 

“I see, and what about the other stuff... Mr. Heart says that you’ve been working for him, that you’ve been missing work at the clinic, and you missed a school assignment. Not admitting the bad stuff, I get, but you didn’t even tell me that you made co-captain on the lacrosse team.” Scott looked at Peter.

“How do you know all that?” He also made a mental note to ask who this “Mr. Heart” was that he was supposedly working for and why Peter felt the need to make up that lie and put it in among all that truth.

“Who cares how he knows, Scott, why don’t _I_ know these things? Is this- Does this have to do with your father?” And there dropped the other shoe, there was the twist of the sword. His mom now had that look on her face that he absolutely hated. She developed it soon after his dad left, it appeared whenever Scott received a bad grade, or had a nightmare, or when neither of them could fix the kitchen sink, or the toilet, which he clogged, or when she had to miss games due to work or would forget the snack pack in his lunch. It was a look that appeared when his mom took the blame for every hardship, no matter the size, that Scott had experienced ever since his father had left. Her eyes were directed on the ground as she nodded her head, as she resolved to try harder, to be a better mother. If only she knew that Scott already viewed her as the best. But words like that, needed words, never come up when you actually need them to. 

Scott’s head was too full of everything his mom now knows, a recap of the last few days, that Peter somehow knows, to fully be concerned for his mom’s mental state. He wondered, instead, if Peter was stalking him at home, at school, or how he would even know about work. Perhaps their bond made Peter mentally connected to him. And he really didn’t like the idea of Peter being able to get into his head. 

Scott was so in his own head that he only caught the last bit of his mom’s question, “his father, or anything?” She was talking to him.

“Huh?” 

“I doubt Jackson will tell his parents any more about the fight than Scott has. Though, he was feeling a bit under the weather even before the brief, I shall add, fight had occurred. So Scott is more than welcomed to pay him a visit at home, and see for himself how he’s doing, assuming he promises to be nice.”

“Jackson’s still at home?” Not the hospital? Hopefully, Derek or somebody cleaned up all that blood before Jackson’s parents got home. 

Over in the Whittemore residence, Jackson was, indeed, home. He was in his bleach scented room, under his covers. He felt awful and wonderful at the same time. Every minute something would feel like it was breaking, and every other minute, something felt like it was healing. Take the five large gnashes on his chest or the larger wound on his neck. They burned, he knew he should be bleeding, was bleeding, but instead of the mind numbing pain he had felt when he had received the injuries, he could feel them _healing_. And this wasn’t the typical white blood cell and platelet built up that eventually accompanies the healing of every deep cut. This was inhuman. As inhuman as Scott, the newly turned werewolf, had looked before he attacked him. As inhuman as the man that bit him afterwards had looked, the man with the red eyes, the man who was responsible for his new healing powers.

His Alpha.


	5. First Kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott gets sent to the principal's office. Stiles gets sent to the video store. Someone dies.

It felt like a year for night to come, for “Mr. Heart” to leave, for Scott to come up with a good enough excuse to explain “Mr. Heart” to his mom so she would stop asking questions, and it felt even longer to get Stiles and Derek out of his house once they showed up. He then had to explain Derek to his mom. 

At the time, he had made the mistake of asking if Stiles could sleep over. He is now forbidden to see Stiles outside of school and lacrosse practice for a week. He also had to call work, get all and any homework done and promise to not get into any more fights. His only saving grace was that Peter and Derek left around the same time, leaving Stiles as the only witness to his scolding. The whole thing took up most of the morning. His homework took most of the afternoon. He postponed the work call. He had enough scolding for one day.

Stiles called later that night. They swapped information. Stiles figured that Peter got all his information (which, for whatever reason/he’s evil, he decided to relay to his mom) through the other wolves. Erica was in Scott’s English class and Derek would have filled Peter in about Jackson, or maybe Isaac did it, and everyone in town with a pet knew where Scott worked, or perhaps he smelled like the clinic, either way, Stiles doubted there was a “psychic” connection. He said the brain was much too complex for a thought to simply be “lifted” like that... Stiles then rambled on about neurons and neurotransmitters and brain hemispheres and Scott started to feel sleepy. 

Then he shot up right when Stiles switched the topic to, “oh and you wouldn’t believe what Derek told me in the car.” Scott was told about Peter and Derek and Laura. Which is just the fucking cherry on his two scoops of fuck ice-cream, of course it was HIS Alpha that killed a fellow wolf and his own niece. Scott would have tried to kill him too, like Derek tried, if he had known. Part of him wanted to now, but he forced that thought aside. Maybe the homicidal tendencies were genetic, in the DNA, and they got passed through the bite. After all, Derek made Erica and she didn’t seem homicidal at all. Scott then wondered what the fancy word for a fellow wolf killer was. Stiles would know. 

He only got the words, “Hey, what would be the-” before his mom entered the room and took away his phone. He knew better then to try and get it back or attempt a video chat now. He would try tomorrow. 

Instead of chatting, at all, Scott slept through Sunday. He needed it. He needed a day of not having work or school or Hale House. He needed a day where he didn’t have to think about being a wolf and all that went with it. He needed a day away from the horror movie mixed with action and melodrama, including Shakespearean deaths between family members, that his life had become. That, and whatever genre was being played out between him and Isaac, the kind with whatever mesh of feelings that bombarded all his senses whenever he was around him.

“Stiles, how do you know you’re gay?” Scott asked as soon as his friend was within earshot. So far, this Monday morning had gone on like any other, well, like any other before he had gained the ability to grow claws and sideburns at will. The bike ride to school and even lacrosse practice had gone smoothly. Jackson wasn’t at practice, which left him with an emotional stew of guilt, worry and glee. He also hadn’t seen Isaac and those mesh feelings came back. Those feelings, strange as they were, were easier to deal with, than the Peter, Derek, almost killing Jackson, grades related issues. Maybe that’s why he chose to voice his boy love related thoughts at that moment. 

“What, I’m not gay, I’m in love with Lydia, remember? Why? Who’s is saying that? Was it Danny?”

“No, Dude, I’m just asking, like, in general.” They were now on their way to English. Scott’s next thought was whether or not he should just skip English. He really didn’t want to see the disappointment on his teacher’s face once she discovered that he still didn’t have his essay. Grade related issue, skip it for now. 

“Ah... well, I guess it’s the exact same way with girls, but for guys. Like, how do you know you like Allison? It’s the same principle, just a different gender.” Scott figured as much, though that didn’t nicely explain what he felt when he thought about Isaac. How he felt about Allison _felt_ different to what he felt for Isaac. The “it’s a pack thing” theory resurfaced in his mind. But then how he felt about Erica and Boyd and Derek didn’t fit. Damn it, what was making Isaac so special?

“Ominous choice of words, Mr. Stilinski.” Said their teacher, who had apparently been eavesdropping, creepy, on their conversation as they walked by her desk. “Mr. McCall, the Principal would like to see you. You can go now.” No one should ever feel as happy or relieved as Scott did to have to visit the Principal’s office. But wait, why did Stiles look worried. Why... Principal... Argent! All thoughts of Isaac and ironically, Allison, slipped away once the situation sunk in.

Gerard Argent, Allison’s grandfather, is the principal of Beacon Hill High School. Scott stopped dead halfway down the hallway. He wasn’t in trouble. He hadn’t done anything during or after school, on school property, that would cause him to be sent to the Principal’s office. But it would make sense for a guy from a family of werewolf hunters to want to speak with him, since he did get turned five nights and four days ago.

He must be really obvious in his new wolf ways. In fact, he was probably seen coming and going from Hale House. And heck, the hunters probably knew what Peter and Derek looked like and both of them were at his house Saturday. So yeah, he’s been pretty obvious. And now the Principal was going to cut his heart out with a silver knife as soon as he enters that room. Scott couldn’t remember if the silver myth was true or not though he promised himself he was going to get more serious about researching, well, himself. It could get difficult to avoid getting killed when you don’t know what can kill you. Copper pennies could be what does him in. 

“Scott?” Scott jumped and turned around. 

“Mrs. Argent.” If Peter was stalking him, now would be a great time for him to pop out. Gerard Argent is the principal, Victoria, Allison’s mother, is the secretary. The only time this information ever mattered to Scott was when he figured that if he did well in sports or with his academics, he might get praise from the principal (A year and change of mostly A’s and nothing so far), which would lead to getting on good terms with Allison. That was the plan.

Scott was told to follow Mrs. Argent. He was led to and into the Principal’s office where the elder Argent, who shall be referred to as Gerard from now own to avoid Argent confusion, was sitting calmly behind his desk. He gestured for Scott to sit down. 

“You wanted to see me, Sir.”

“Mr. McCall, I was just wondering how well you know Isaac Lahey?” Of all the people to be asked about. It was the one Scott had been thinking of all morning while trying to find him in the hallways. In a city school, he would be able to get away with a “Who”, but here, the question wasn’t even if he knew Isaac, it was “how well”. For all Scott knew, they had camera footage of him sniffing Isaac’s locker this morning (which had prompted Stiles to ask what was up, which led to the gay question). It also sounded like a set up question. If he gets it wrong or right, they’ll know, and this is not what they really want to ask. Scott needed to figure out what the real questions were before they get asked. Before he gets caught in a lie. 

“He’s in my chemistry class.” 

“And have you ever talked to him outside of class?” Mrs. Argent asked this. It was too direct for a general answer to be given, and he knew it was no mere coincidence, that until a week ago, the answer would have been “no” and he was being asked this now. 

“What is this about?” It was less risky to not answer than to give the wrong answer. 

“Why don’t you answer our questions first, Dear.” Or it was more risky. He felt Mrs. Argent’s hand on his shoulder. She was gripping him tightly. She had sharp nails of her own.

“I think he’s right, Victoria, there is no reason to waste time with needless questions, so why don’t we just _cut_ to the point.” Victoria walked over to a side table and she picked up a folder that looked pre-placed, like a plan B now in action. Scott rubbed his shoulder. He felt slightly better with her not directly behind him anymore. She handed the folder to the principal. “Ah, thank you, Deary. Now, Scott, I am sure you have learned in history class all about a man named Daniel Osbourne, correct?” Scott thought they were done with the needless questions. But this line of questioning was better than the first. Which actually made him more nervous. 

He answered in the negative. 

“No, that’s a shame, well what you need to know about this man is that he is the inventor of a photo editing tool that can get rid of lens flares in a photograph, especially ones in people’s eyes. Do you know what kind of pictures that most commonly have this type of problem?” Again, Scott could only honestly answer in the negative. The folder opened and one of what looked like several photographs was placed in front of him. “The kind of pictures with werewolves!” Scott involuntarily leaned in. It was a black and white photo of a man; there were white lights where his eyes would be. Now Scott’s academic memory was slightly jolted, he could remember seeing a similar photo in some textbook. He remembers thinking how scary and demonic the person looked. “In fact, any type of film will create this effect. It will reveal the monster within. Now tell me, Scott, do you see any werewolves in this photo?” 

Scott feared the next photo even before seeing it. He had a feeling that this line of questions had something to do with the first. And the photo he saw confirmed it. Well, it mainly confirmed it. He expected to see a photo of Isaac with lights where his eyes would be. He didn’t expect it to be a photo of Isaac, him, Erica, and Boyd during gym on Friday with lights where their eyes would be. He stared in slight disbelief. He, they, had been discovered and by hunters! What were they going to do? What was he going to do? And more importantly, what were these werewolf hunters going to do?

“I can tell by the look on your face that you know exactly what I’m talking about. But rest assured, Scott, we do not plan to round up your little pack and slaughter you one by one. We are much more civilized than that. We follow a simple rule,” At this, Gerard slowly stood up and started to make his way around the desk. Mrs. Argent nodded and then left the room. Scott wanted to go with her. He gripped his chair and his eyes never left Gerard. “A code, if you will. If you don’t harm our kind, we won’t harm yours. By the way, what is the name of the one who gave you the bite?” Scott’s tongue felt heavy at the question and he and the evil murder loving voice in his head were in agreement; don’t speak. “No, I didn’t think you would answer that, after all, a beta would never give up his alpha!” Gerard was now standing behind Scott, where Mrs. Argent once stood. His lack of long sharp nails did not make Scott any less fearful. Despite having been told that he wasn’t going to be harmed (slaughtered, he used the word slaughtered), every nerve in his body was anticipating an attack. “And I only asked about your relationship with Isaac in hopes that you’ll pass the message on to your new pack mate.” A new photo was placed in front of Scott’s face, so he had no choice but to take it. The still shots of video footage captured the moment he and Isaac had been watching Jackson get into his car in the school parking lot. Their eyes glowed in every little image. 

“Message?” Scott asked before he could piece anything together. No wonder teachers sometime threw erasers at him. In his defense, his mind had been trying to match up everything Gerard was telling him with everything Peter and Derek had told him about hunters, about the Argents, during his first visit to the Hale House. However, his mind hit a brick wall as soon as Gerard uttered the words “Isaac” and “relationship”. 

Gerard’s new words got his mind going again. “I’m going to tell you the same thing I said to your other yellow eyed friends and you can pass the message on to Isaac. If any of you so much as scratch an innocent human being, then we, werewolf hunters, will be there to,“ at this, his arm came up and a small blade came down and into Scott’s shoulder. Scott gave a silent yell and a vocal gasp. “Put you down. Have. I. Made. My. Point. Clear?” 

When the knife was removed, Scott had wanted to scream about that “point” Gerard had made about NOT harming him. But he was too afraid to say anything. Gerard then dismissed him and reminded him to “pass on the message”. 

Scott was firmly led out of the office and back into the hallway, where he was left to make his own way to the nurse’s office, a suggestion made by Mrs. Argent. He didn’t even make it past the boys’ bathroom. That was when an arm shot out and he got pulled into the room. For a panicked second, he thought is was Mrs. Argent and he was about to be killed in the boys’ bathroom.

“Wha- Derek?” That second passed. Derek Hale, in all his leather jacket glory, was standing in the boys’ bathroom with wide, worried eyes. Scott was still too shaken up from getting interrogated and stabbed by the Principal to even be shocked by Derek’s presence. He actually felt glad for it. 

“What happened?” Derek asked even as his eyes took in Scott’s shoulder.

“I got called down to the office and they started asking me all these questions about Isaac and then they lectured me on the photo flare guy and then they showed me camera shots of the gym and me and Isaac and Boyd and Erica. We were all there and obviously wolfs with our shining eyes, and he said, I won’t hurt any of you if you don’t hurt others and then he STABBED ME!” 

“All right, calm down. He only did that to prove he knew what you are.” Derek put his fingers against Scott’s wound. Scott automatically flinched away, but was surprised when no pain was felt. “See, it’s already healed.”

“It’s bad that they know about us, right?” 

“Did you mention me or Peter?”

“No.”

“Then it should be fine. They haven’t attacked Erica or Boyd, yet, and they’ve known about them for awhile.”

“They have?” Derek nodded. Scott tried to remember, when Erica was telling his discreetly about the Argents, if she had also mentioned the Argents knowing about her. All he could recall was how close she had been standing. 

“And if anything else happens, with the Argents or with the other wolves, I want you to come tell me, okay?”

“You... shouldn’t I go to Peter?” 

“You shouldn’t trust Peter.”

“Because he killed Laura.” Derek only nodded again. And the question Scott had wondered since Stiles had first told him about Laura came up, “Then why are you with him?” Scott couldn’t imagine living with someone you don’t trust and, at one point, tried to kill. 

“Because in order to survive, I need him. Just like You. Need. Me.” The only way Scott could describe his feelings at the moment were that his wolf really did not agree with that statement. It either did not like Derek or it did not want to be a follower in _any_ pack. And here comes the outburst.

“Know what I need? I need to not be seen with you, any of you, or the Argents are going to start stabbing me in places besides my shoulder.” 

“They’re not going to hurt you.”

“They already hurt me, or did you not hear the part where Principal Argent stabbed me!” 

“I mean, they won’t kill you. Trust me, if they wanted you dead, you would be.”

“Is that suppose to make me feel better or safer with you?”

“It’s suppose to put that one little scratch on your shoulder into perspective. There might be a family of hunters that won’t kill you, Scott, but there are hundreds, if not thousands of others all across the country who would. If you want to feel safe from _them_ , then you need a pack.”

 

“Okay... well...” At this point, Scott wanted to just say “yes”, but something was holding him back. “when that times comes... I’ll be a part of your pack. But for now, I don’t need anyone.” Derek crossed his arms and smirked. 

“Oh really, and just what do you plan to do the next time you run into someone Isaac has kissed, are you going to try to kill them too?” Derek smiled wider as he walked pass Scott. Apparently their conversation was ending. “I’ll stop by your place tonight, so keep the window open.” He then left the bathroom. 

He walked to his next class in a daze. Stiles found him and he immediately started to ask a series of questions. It took all of Scott’s will power not to snap at him. Could he go a day where he wasn’t bombarded with the fact that his entire life has changed, and not for the better, not even for the little bit okay. He would just like a day, like Sunday, but add in going to lacrosse practice and school, heck, even work, and have nothing majorly scary or life threatening or utterly confusing happen.

After keeping silent for sixteen questions, Stiles got the hint that he should just ask his questions later. Later became after school when they were both miraculously heading outside, instead of to detention. Scott may actually make it to work, not only today, but on time today. On the way there, he finally filled Stiles in on what had happened in the Principal’s office and meeting with Derek in the bathroom. Stiles agreed that Scott shouldn’t join any Hale pack. He brought up a good point that they tended to kill their own, not really the kind of “second family” he should be joining. 

They were almost at the clinic, and hopefully still Scott’s place of employment, when Stiles got the nerve to ask. “So, is there anything else you’d like to share?”

“Like what?”

“Like, I don’t know... why you tried to kill Jackson? I know Derek asked you, like a bunch of times, but you never really answered him. Was it like with me, where you just lost control?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Scott could feel his friend’s disappointment, so he amended, “I don’t want to risk getting angry again by talking about it.” The disappointment faded, he could practically hear the wheels turning.

“Then tell me this,” he said after half a minute or so, “Did you attack Jackson because of Isaac?” Scott opened the car door.

“Based on the question, I think you already know the answer.” Scott jumped out of the car.

“I get it, you know.” Scott stopped and looked back. He knew that Stiles knew he could hear him still, even with Stiles not raising his voice and him being a few paces away already. “Shower rooms and bathrooms, in general, tend to echo, and Isaac did leave the shower room fully clothed and wet, so I don’t even want to know what you saw, but I know Isaac and Jackson are an Isaac and Jackson. And I get that that upsets you. I can see that it upsets you now. And I totally get that, he’s your own personal muffin man, your wolf bro. And even I want to rip Jackson’s head off for cheating on Lydia. I so would have if I had this genetic mutation that brought out the bloodlust in me whenever my teenaged emotions went into overdrive. So I get it, really. And I just-”

“What?”

“Just, you’re not alone in this. I mean, besides your pack of misfit nut jobs, I’m here for you too.” Scott tried not to laugh.

“Dude, dial it back on the after school special. I know you’re here for me. And when I’m ready to talk, you’ll be the first one I talk to, okay?”

“You’re the butter to my toast, Scott McCall.”

“Okay, I get it, now go, you’re making me late for work.”

“I love you!” 

“Goodbye!”

“Dudes before were-dogs!” Scott had to promise to watch some movies with Stiles tonight before his friend would drive away. He had a whole work shift to come up with a good lie to tell his mom, after all, he was temporally forbidden to see Stiles after school for things like movies.

He could always show her the current incomplete he currently has on his English essay. She had to believe that the only way he thought he could get it done was by not being in his room, but in somewhere like the library, which stays open until 9 PM on weekdays. Yeah, that could work. 

Speaking of work, he was about to enter his. He works at an animal clinic, by the way. Animals are much easier to deal with than people. Scott took a deep breath and mentally prepared to get yelled at. He really should have made that phone call on Saturday like his mother told him to. He opened the door. The bell went off, and boy, was it loud. He tried to blink away the slight pain, as if that would help. He was expecting to see an angry face when his boss came into focus. He was not expecting the amused look he saw. 

“Slightly hung over, are we?” His boss, Dr. Deaton asked.

“What, no, it’s just that the bell...” how are you going to finish that one, McCall?

“Is loud?”

“Yeah... but I’m not hung over, I swear, and I’m sorry for being late and I’m sorry for not calling into work on Friday, or on Thursday, to say I couldn’t make it.” 

“Why couldn’t you make it?” Shit, he’s had four days to come up with something, why didn’t he think of this? 

“Why?” It would be easier if he was just fired now.

“Having trouble coming up with a believable lie?”

“Yeah, I mean no, I just-”

“Relax, Scott, I’m not going to fire you.”

“You’re not?”

“I’m not. I’m sure that whatever the reason may be, it must have been something important enough to have you abandon your responsibilities here, am I right?” Scott nodded. “And now that whatever you needed to attend to is sorted out, you’re able to come back to work.” Again Scott nodded. It was the most general,though slightly inaccurate, version of the truth that he was able to honestly agree with, so he did. 

He’s still employed. He can’t wait to tell Stiles.

After hours of homework and research on Lycons, Stiles grabbed his wallet and keys and headed out to his jeep. Peter hadn’t been kidding about there being differences between the werewolves on TV (including presentations on the history channel) and what he was reading about in the books Peter lent him. Of course, he had picked up a few of the obvious differences. Like the ability to shift when there was no full moon in sight, which made the traits of the creature, the heighten senses for instance, a permanent fixture in the transformed person’s life. Scott didn’t just turn into a werewolf, he was one. It took a bit of excess energy to manifest into his full animal form (facial hair and all). In plain terms, his best friend had acquired a second persona, one with the urge to maim and kill.

But that wasn’t entirely true either.

Yes, there was bloodlust associated with newly turned wolves on the full moon as they adjusted to their new set of instincts. But Stiles had been reading about the pure, naturally born werewolves, and they were horses of a different color... or wolves rather. 

Images of wolves were dancing in Stiles’s head as he pulled into the parking lot of the video rental store. That kind of mindset, mixed with his natural hyperactivity, and sensitivity to all movement, caused him to be a little more on edge than what was even usual for him to be. This was the excuse he came up with when he later explained this part of the story to Scott. This was why he screamed when he almost ran into Gerard Argent while he was walking towards the comedy isle. 

“Mr. Stilinski, that is quite the set of lungs you have there.” He said. Allison, who was standing next to her grandfather, simply looked at Stiles as if he was crazy, or as if she found him terribly confusing, those two emotions always looked the same to Stiles. 

“Thank you, Sir. I’m thinking about trying out for the choir this year, you know, we’ve been lacking in good sopranos for a few years now.”

“Is that so?” 

“Yeah, all the girls these days want to sound like Tyler Swift, I’m more of an Adele fan myself.” Stiles didn’t know why he was still talking or where he was going with this tall tale. Then again, that was usually the case when he talked due to nerves. 

“Well, I do wish you luck in your endeavor,” The old man began to turn around and Stiles let out a huff of air that was louder than he intended it to be. The old man turned back. “Oh, that’s right, you’re the friend of Scott McCall, aren’t you? Is he with you tonight?” There was an up and a down to being told what had happened to Scott in the Principal’s office today. The up was that he knew why he was being asked about Scott. He can give better answers, pick the right words.

“No, he’s at work right, and not, you know, stabbing innocent people.” That was the downside, his brain doesn’t do the “right words” shuffle, it just goes with the first ones. And again, Allison had that confused look. He doubted Evil Grandpa told his granddaughter about the fellow student of hers that he and her mother interrogated and attacked today. It probably doesn’t make for proper dinner conversation.

“I See. You know, they say that imagination is more important than knowledge, but I prefer to think that any thoughts not acted upon are nothing but delusions. Your generation spends too much time these days idealistically fantasizing, and not enough time productively contributing to society. Your friend is dreaming if he thinks he can handle the monstrosity of a curse that he has been subjected to. And I doubt you are capable of taking the necessary actions to appease his suffering before he starts inflicting immense injuries on others.” It’s a good thing they don’t know about Jackson. And perhaps he has been hanging around the altered version of Scott too much because Stiles felt that punching this ninety year old, give or take a year, man would be a sound decision. His fist even curled up.

And he’s not saying he would have, punched him, that is, just that that was what he was thinking about the moment Allison, who was looking elsewhere, screamed. Stiles wanted Scott.

 

Work for Scott was, well, “different” would be too general of a word... freaking weird was more accurate. Dr. Deaton was still being nice and nice wasn’t unusual for him. And Scott did understand (and had expected) the warning that if he did decide to “go sort things out” again without informing his boss that he wouldn’t be in, then he would be fired. He also wasn’t surprised, though a bit bummed, that his first task was to clean the cat cages. And this is where the weirdness started. 

If Scott had to choose, he would say he was slightly more of a dog person than a cat person. Favor for the former will no doubt grow due to his recent transformation. However, in general, he does like cats and cats like him. Or, they used to like him. As soon as he walked into the cat room, the hissing and the clawing and the leaping or pouncing at cages started. Every cat in the room, no matter how sick, actively wanted to scratch his eyes out. Understandably, he quickly left the room. 

“Problem?” Dr. Deaton asked as if he hadn’t heard a thing. Strange.

“The cats.. they...” he couldn’t really finish with a “have gone berserk because they sense I’m a werewolf” so, he spit out the next best thing, “have gone berserk, I think it’s my new after shave.” 

“I see. Perhaps you’ll find what is in the bottom left draw behind you useful.” In the bottom left drawer was a pair of large gloves. The kind they train police dogs with, the kind that can protect a hand from being bitten. The big, thick, black kind. “There are a lot of animals to check on today, so please work as efficiently as you can.” Scott couldn’t believe he was being made to go back into cat hell with only protection for his hands. Or that he was going back in at all. Scott also couldn’t believe that a bunch of sick cats would even dare try to take down a healthy wolf person. 

But, oh, did they try.

Cleaning cat cages can be arduous enough on a normal day. The gloves made scooping and dumping and litter re-spreading a messy, and at times downright gross, task. The gloves also only protected his hands. They did nothing to protect his arms and face and anywhere else the cats managed to leap onto. Though everything was already almost completely healed by the time he was bringing the used litter filled trash bags out to the dumpster, he vowed to never not tell Dr. Deaton when he might not be coming into work ever again. He also vowed to always come to work once he saw the small satisfied grin on Dr. Deaton’s face when he returned. 

“Looks like you made it out unscathed.”

“Yeah, the gloves really helped.” Scott mumbled as he tossed the gloves back into the drawer they came from. This was going to be a long shift. 

 

Speaking of shifting, Stiles, who is still at the video store, shifted his eyes from Gerard to Allison and then he quickly turned on his heel to see what she had screamed for. He didn’t see anything. Gerard was by his granddaughter’s side, holding her arm.

“What, what did you see, darling?” Stiles didn't know why the old man’s eyes had to bug out at the end of his every sentence, but they did. 

“I- I don’t know, I thought I saw-”

“Was it human?” Allison, who also had wide eyes, but for a different, more natural reason, shook her head. Stiles thought the same thing Gerard must have: Werewolf. The only difference was that Stiles had had names and faces attached to the word. So he was none too pleased to see Gerard pull out a knife. Stiles wondered if the old man had really expected to run into a werewolf at a video store, warranting the possession of a weapon. But then, given their situation, decided that was a moot thought. 

A hiss rang out and standing shelf of movies suddenly toppled over. Everyone looked in that direction, only Stiles took steps in the opposite direction of the noise. And then he saw it, or part of it, there was a flash, a flash to his human eyes, of a body, down low, crawling. It was fast, whatever it was, and it was moving in their direction, but slightly to the right. It was getting closer to Gerard and Allison. 

Gerard held his knife up and Allison backed away completely until she hit a wall of videos. Stiles didn’t clearly see the creature until it was on top of Gerard, knocking him down with ease. Allison screamed again, but this time for her grandfather. Stiles started moving again when he saw Allison draw out her own long knife. He didn’t know what this thing was, but he knew they stood no chance in fighting it. He got to her before she could get to it and he grabbed her arm. The reptilian, he could now call it, monster was digging and dragging his claws down Gerard’s chest. Stiles pulled Allison back. She let him. They both stop moving as the thing, seemingly finished with it’s first murder, looked up at his next potential victims. It hissed or yelled or whatever that breathy growl could be called. Then, just as quickly as he had entered the scene, the creature rushed past them and burst through the store’s glass window. In seconds, he was outside and out of sight. 

Stiles let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Allison moved out of his hold and she hurried over to her dying or perhaps already dead grandfather. Stiles, with shaky hands, took out his phone. He intended to dial 911, but his fingers automatically dialed another number instead.

“Dad, I-there’s been a... attack at the video store... I need, we need help, bring an ambulance-”

“Stiles!” Stiles accidentally dropped his phone when Allison yelled for him. She was on the floor next to Gerard, she had been kneeling near him, now she was literally on the floor, lying on her side next to him with her legs still folded beneath her. Stiles went to her. “I can’t move!”

“What, what, what did you do? What did you touch?” Stiles stuck his nose under his shirt. He also tried his hardest to stayed focused on Allison and not the dead man next to them. “Or breathe in, did you smell something?” Pause a beat. “Okay okay, relax, I’m sure you’re okay. I mean, you’re paralyzed and that’s not okay, especially if that thing comes back, but for now... the police are on their way so don’t worry. Everything will be okay.” Stiles rambled on with variations of this sentiment until the police, led by his father, arrived. 

Sheriff Stilinski led his uncharacteristically quiet son over to his car, away from all the commotion. He had no idea what he would be driving up to when Stiles called and told him there had been an attack at the video store. There had been no specifics of what kind of attack, or if the perpetrator was still there, or if things were okay or still hostile, or if Stiles was in or away from harm. There were too many unknowns and it caused the already slightly overprotective parent to call all units on hand to join the ambulance. It wasn’t until he was almost at the store that he realized his son may have been referring to one of Scott’s asthma attacks. Though as quickly as the idea came, as slightly comforting as it had been, he dismissed it. It was something in Stiles’s voice and the voice who had yelled his son’s name before the call dropped. His son didn’t sound scared for his friend’s life, he sounded terrified for his own. 

He knew his instincts had been right when he pulled into the video store parking lot and saw all the glass. The video stork clerk was the first one to greet him, but he didn’t even give the man a second’s thought, he broke protocol and entered the crime scene in search of his son. If he had stopped to talk to the guy he would have heard a story about a giant lizard demon being the cause for all this destruction. As it were, he had no idea what had caused the wounds he saw on Gerard Argent’s body before he led his, thankfully unharmed, son outside. 

“Now I want you to tell me, slowly, and with as much necessary detail as you can, what happened here tonight.” He was expecting the run on, scattered way his son usually talked, but thought he should give a warning anyway. When Stiles didn’t respond right away, he added. “You can take all the time you need to sort your thoughts out, okay?” Still nothing. “Stiles?”

“Huh?”

“Are you okay?” It wasn’t the first time he asked, but he wanted, no he needed more than the nods his son had been giving him. 

“Me, yeah, sure.” He’ll take it. “All right, well, you just stay here, sit in your car. Stay here. I have to go take care of things over there. But I’ll be back to drive you home so stay here.” He got a couple of nods. He nodded back, satisfied with the situation as he was going to be. He turned around and started to head back to the crime scene. They were moving the body of Principal Argent with a stretcher over to the ambulance.

“Dad?” He turned back around and stood near Stiles again. “Would it be okay if Scott took me home instead?” No, it was not okay for Stiles to be taken out of his peripheral vision for the rest of the night, if not longer. It was not okay at all.

“Scott’s not here.” Stiles held up his phone.

“Please?”

“Of course, but know I’m going to need a statement from you, and soon.”

“I didn’t really see what happened.”

“Well, what did you see?”

“Nothing really.”

“Then what happened? Who attacked Principal Argent? How did Allison become paralyzed?”

“I don’t know. I was on the other side of the store. It all happened so fast, the screaming, the glass breaking.”

“So you didn’t see the attacker?” He got lowered eyes and a shake of the head. The officer side of him was disappointed, though not completely put out, surely Allison would know who attacked her and her grandfather. The father side of him was relieved his son hadn’t witnessed anything too horrific or had been in harm’s way. 

A short while later, Scott McCall showed up in his mom’s car and he took Stiles home. However, the Sheriff had no idea who’s home the boys were heading to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late at night update. Been sickish for three days. Feeling good now. Also, extra love for those who spotted the small Buffy reference.


	6. Home Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac has problems at home. The Argents have problems at home. People die. Trigger warning for child abuse and shitty parenting in general.

A week has passed since the attack at the video store, an attack of any kind is rare for a town like Beacon Hills, so naturally, everyone in town knew some version of what had happened. The most recent story, the one in the papers, was that a man dressed in a lizard costume, which is plausible since stores are already selling Halloween costumes in mid-September, had killed the high school Principal with knives laced in a paralytic toxin. It was this toxin that a young, sixteen year old girl, name withheld, accidentally came into contact with, causing her to also suffer from the paralytic effects. No others were harmed in the attack and no suspects have been brought in. 

Very few people, including Isaac Lahey, knew that a real lizard monster had attacked the principal and Allison, and IT was still at large. Though it had been a week, the reason the story was currently on his mind was because that was the report in the rolled up newspaper in his hand that now had a squished bug on it. 

Thoughts about the attack led to thoughts about Stiles, who had been there, which naturally led to thoughts about Scott, and that led to the weird conversation he overheard this morning at school. Today marked his first day back since the incident at Jackson’s house, when Scott had stormed in and tried to kill him. Then Derek put _him_ under house arrest. Was told to stay away from Scott. Learn control. Like that made any sense. Push away the thoughts. Back to today. He heard Scott before he saw him in the hallway. 

“... because I need to learn control and Derek can help me with that.” Isaac stalled in opening his locker at the sound of his Alpha’s name.

“I taught you control.” This was the voice of Stiles.

“Telling Boyd I called him stupid and fat, just so he’d beat me up, is not-”

“Did you focus on the bag of muffins? Did you shift? Cause I didn’t see you shift.” Isaac was now watching Scott in front of his locker with Stiles.

“That’s because I was in too much pain to do anything besides be in pain!”

“Maybe it’s not Isaac that calms you, maybe you just can’t shift in front of other wolves. Maybe your wolf has self-image issues, is shift shy.”

“You want to say wolf a little louder, I don’t think the hunter a few feet away heard you.” Stiles looked around.

“Lydia, where? Oh, hey, your Muffin is back.”

“Huh?” Stiles looked right at Isaac and gave him a small wave. Isaac wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be near Scott yet. His own control training with Derek hadn’t been going so well. It mainly consisted of having many of his bones breaking and healing and also listening to speeches about anchors and how much he’ll always need Derek. Then again, Derek did allow him to come back to school, where Scott is, so that had to mean something.

Now back to the odd conversation. Did Stiles just refer to HIM as a “Muffin”? And he said that he, Isaac, calms Scott, calms his wolf, keeps him from shifting. Which, according to the word of Derek, would make him Scott’s anchor. Which, according to Isaac, made no sense at all. He had to have heard wrong, not just because he wasn’t worthy to be anyone’s anchor, a strong emotion-rooted tie that keeps them human, but the whole Jackson incident proves that Scott will do worse than just shift around him. Attempted murder is not the act of a calmed man.

Isaac’s mind kept getting dragged back to the word “muffin”. He doesn’t resemble the baked good at all. He brought his shirt to his nose and got sweat, dirt, and wet fir. Scott had the same smell, but there was also this other one, he noticed most of the wolves, most people in general, had this “other” scent that was uniquely theirs. Derek smelled like gasoline. Erica smelled like lemons. Boyd smelled like markers, the unscented kind that were probably unsafe to sniff too closely or too often. And Scott smelled liked butter. He asked Erica about it once, and she confirmed the smells, though for her, Boyd smelled liked oranges. And she said he smelled like cookies. 

He doesn’t even bake. 

“Isaac!” Isaac focused out of his mental food rant and in on his father now standing in the kitchen. He does not like his father. He is terrified of him. Derek had offered him a room in Hale House, but Isaac was too afraid of what his dad might do if he ever caught him packing or making to leave, or if he just stayed away from the house for too long. 

“Yes, Sir?”

“What is this?” his dad held his hands up in disbelief, wonder, or maybe he was trying to indicate what he was referring to. Isaac’s mind was making its way towards the pain free, blank space, so he couldn’t tell.

“What?”

“What do you mean, what? I asked you to clean the kitchen floor. Too hard a task for you?”

“I did.”

“Oh you did. You think this is clean? Really? You would eat off this floor? Really? Let’s test it out then.” Isaac watched his father take the loaf of bread down from the top of the refrigerator and take a slice out. He then walked over to the kitchen table, bent down by a chair, rubbed some of the collected dust and dirt that was around the chair leg, that Isaac now noticed, and brought the dirt streaked piece of bread up to Isaac’s face. “Well go ahead, Son, take a bite.” Isaac shook his head.

“Do you want to take this little discussion downstairs?” Isaac shook his head again, though more slowly. “Then take a bite.” 

“I can wash it again, I’ll do a better job.”

“Isaac.”

“I can do it right now.”

“I-saac!” His dad drew out his name. It was an exasperated warning, but a warning nonetheless. Isaac stared at his father, hoping he would still change his mind, even as he slowly brought his head forward. Even as he took a small bite. There was still a bit of dirt in the bite he took. His father suddenly grabbed him by his neck and tried to force the food further inside his mouth. 

On any other day, during another other week, any other time of year, before Derek took a bite out of him, Isaac would have felt powerless, had a total inability to defend himself, a total inability to even try. But not this day. This day he felt a surge of aggression in place of the familiar compliance. He heard himself growl, he felt his arm move up. It arched over onto his father’s arm, successfully moving, pushing the arm back and away. The piece of bread fell to the ground. He looked more surprised by what had just occurred, and that was saying something.

His arm remained in the air for a few seconds, for a few seconds, neither of them knew what to do. They did not behave like this, their roles did not play out like this, Isaac wasn’t suppose to defend himself. His father recovered first, used to being the one in control, he tightened his grip on Isaac’s neck.

“You just earned yourself a trip downstairs.” That’s when Isaac noticed. He had been so focused on his own well-being that he hadn’t given his father’s condition much thought. But now he heard it, both in voice and in the quick rhythm of his heart; Isaac’s action had scared his father. Isaac had scared his father. Isaac needed more of that. 

“I don’t think so.” He said it slowly, the words barely making it out of his mouth. And there it was again, that quickened beat. It made Isaac feel good, really good. A thought attached to an idea came through, and that made Isaac feel better. But oh, he couldn’t, he would never, he didn’t have the... strength?

“Excuse me?”His father brought the hand that had been on his neck back, he prepared to strike him. Isaac saw it coming, and Isaac had an idea, a plan, a desire to give his father a taste of his own medicine. He caught his father’s arm and let out a low growl. His other arm latched around his father’s throat. He pulled the older man forward. He dragged him down the stairs. 

The first time Mr. Lahey threw his son into an emptied out freezer in the basement was after he had spent hours worrying about where, the hell, his son was. Didn’t he know that during the hour he hadn’t been sure where Camden was, that was when he had received the frantic call from Isaac, that was when he had learned his first born was dead. He was so relieved and unbelievable pissed off when Isaac sauntered into the house as if he had done nothing wrong. He can’t recall what made him think of the freezer, as children, time outs always happened on the chairs or in the corners of rooms. And once, in a closet, that one had been his idea. 

He sat on the freezer the first time. But he knew he would need stronger reinforcements as Isaac got older, got naturally stronger and more terrified of his new time out space. He, personally, didn’t see what the big deal was. 

He started to understand when his son merciless shoved him into it with daunting ease. He yelled and started to hit the front and sides of the freezer immediately, even as he heard Isaac lock it up. Then he just continued to bang and hit and push and kick with as much force as his confined space allowed. After about twenty minutes, he stopped being angry. After about thirty minutes, he started to panic. After about thirty two minutes, he tried to claw his way out, his nails digging into the same grooves his son had created.

Isaac ran out of his house shortly after he had put his dad in the freezer. He needed to get out of the house, to cool off, to think of a next plan of action. It all happened so fast, the adrenaline was still in his system, as was some of the anger. He was now left with the knowledge that he had just attacked his father. He had seen red, briefly, which meant his eyes had shifted color, but he couldn’t be entirely sure that the reason he lost control was because he was a wolf or because he was a Lahey. Both reasons scared him. So now that that was a thing that happened, he needed to figure out what he should do next, he could work out the reasons behind the actions later. He needed his Derek. Now.

He walked as calmly to his bike as he could. After all, this is a small neighborhood and he could hear his father yelling, hopefully, it was just him. While he was looking around for the movement of a potentially nosy neighbor, he quickly noticed the movement on Jackson’s roof. His hopeful mind supplied Scott, but that wouldn’t make any sense. Why would Scott go to Jackson’s... to finish the job? Isaac took a couple steps forward, towards the house across the street. It could just be a wild raccoon or cat.

Then he saw the movement again. It leapt off of the roof and landed on the slanted lawn. Due to his enhanced vision, Isaac could clearly see who it was, or at least who it looked like. It looked like Jackson, but he had these... scales all over the right side of his face. The scales continued down the right side of his bared chest as well. 

He spotted Isaac. Isaac started taking a few steps back towards his house. He moved more quickly when Jackson started moving down his front lawn, towards him. Isaac was almost at his door step when Jackson stopped in the middle of the street, let out this glass shattering shriek, and started running, running away from Isaac and down the street. Isaac’s eyes followed him as Jackson’s body grew a tail and he started running with his hands and feet. 

Now Isaac really needed to see his Derek. His legs took him towards Scott’s house.

 

Scott laid back on his bed, content. He’s had an entire week of no one trying to kill him or getting killed or of him feeling the urge to kill anyone. He didn’t think he could ever feel as happy as he did to have absolutely nothing happen for an entire week. Maybe he could do this wolf thing. 

“Heads up!” Two weeks ago, Stiles, who was leaping in from the window directly above Scott’s bed, would have landed on top of Scott, made a perverse joke about masturbation and gotten shoved off the bed. But tonight, he caught his friend in flight and tossed him to the floor in front of the bed, all before his human side even registered the voice. “OW, DUDE!” Scott kneeled and looked down at his floor.

“I’m so sorry, Dude, I didn’t mean to, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just thinking that I should just use that copy of your house key I made to enter from now on.”

“It would be safer.” No, Scott wasn’t surprised his best friend made a copy of his house key; in part because it was Stiles, but mainly because someone, and not him or his mom, had been eating all the Bagel Bites recently. 

“You hungry? I’m hungry.”

“Don’t you have food at your house?”

“Yeah, but it’s all organic health crap for my Dad. I can’t take another veggie burger man, I need me a piece of fat filled cow, now.”

“Haha, well, I don’t know about burgers, but there should still be a container of Hamburger Helper left.”

“Is it three cheese macaroni?”

“Does my mom get any other kind?”

“I love your mom.”

“I love you too, Stiles, and welcome back.” Ah yes, today was the first official day that Scott was no longer grounded from seeing Stiles. Though really, the amount of time they hung out had barely changed over the past week. 

“Good to be back, Ms. McCall.” Melissa gave a smile and a wave and then left the doorway.

“Don’t stay up too late.” she called from down the hall.

“We won’t.” Was the lie the boys said together.

“Man, I can’t believe it’s been a week already, you look older.” Stiles observed from the floor.

“Shut up.” 

“Did you miss me?”

“I just saw you, like, five hours ago at practice.”

“Yeah, but I was on the bench and you were on the field. You know, Coach said that if Jackson doesn’t show up for tomorrow’s game, he can’t be first line anymore.” 

“Which means you could get a chance to play.”

“Which means Greenburg will get a chance to play.”

“I can put in a good word for you.”

“You mean you haven’t already?” Stiles dramatically touched his chest and sprawled out on the floor further.

“Why would I want to abuse my position so soon after becoming co-captain?”

“Uh, maybe for the same reason Danny, who didn’t even show up for tryouts, got the position of first line goalie. Seriously, I don’t think Coach even knows my name half the time, but he’s always talking to to me during-”

“Stiles, shut up.”

“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t hurt if you-”

“Quiet... I think Isaac’s coming.” Stiles finally sat up from the floor. Scott crawled over to his window and looked out. 

“If he does, you should tell him you love him.” Scott didn’t bother to tell Stiles to shut up this time, he just glared. And the “love” that he was referring to had to do with the confession he made to Stiles earlier in the week. It was Monday. Maybe it was not seeing Isaac, maybe it was seeing Erica and Boyd, maybe it was being able to smell Derek lingering, loitering, and generally being creepy outside the school, but something clicked in Scott’s head and he made the switch from denial to acceptance. He hadn’t even known it was possible to lie to oneself, until he found himself mumbling out truths he would have denied a day earlier.

Okay, so maybe he hadn’t been in complete denial about not wanting to be in Peter’s pack, but he felt sure of it on Monday. He was also sure he didn’t want to be in Derek’s pack. Neither felt right. Which would leave him with being an omega, which meant his days were numbered because omegas can’t survive on their own, but even that bit of information he had a hard time truly believing. After all, it did come from Alphas and, of course, they would say things to keep a person in their pack like, if you leave, you die. So now it wasn’t even a question of if he should leave, but if he _could_ leave Peter’s pack. He needed a way to become an omega... without it resorting to any kind of violence.

The other truth he mumbled on Monday, which somehow didn’t surprise Stiles either, something about already knowing ever since the “mini muffin attack”, was that he likes Isaac. He likes Isaac the way he likes Allison. And just like with Allison, he has no idea what to do about it, or if he should do anything about it, or if given the chance, he even could do something about it, or if Isaac would want him to do something about it, you see the problem here. He just didn’t know, and the scary part is the wolf in him kept supplying some very graphic ideas, which were simply out of the question and bordering on rape if Isaac really wasn’t into him like that. 

It was during the rape thought that Isaac’s face appeared in Scott’s window. He had just jumped onto the roof and now his hand was in midair, a finger out, ready to tap, and he was staring at Scott, shocked to stillness. 

“Hi.” Well, at least Scott didn’t begin with something stupid, so far so good. 

“Hi.”

“Hey, Isaac, how’s it going? Are you here on wolf business? Should I leave you two alone?” It was a good thing Isaac didn’t know Stiles very well because he would have found the thought of him leaving any conversation that might have to do with werewolves weird. He might have picked up on his true intentions, like Scott did. 

“You can come in.” Scott shifted to the side of his bed so Isaac could enter. If felt like he was getting a second chance from when Isaac had first appeared at his window. Did his doorbell not work or something? Isaac seemed to debate the offer before climbing in. Now Scott and Isaac were physically inches apart. Stiles got up and backed away towards the door slowly, grinning the entire time. “So.. umm... this is my room.”

“It’s nice.”

“Thanks.”

“I don’t know how to say this, so I just will,” Isaac’s expression changed in a way that sent dread through Scott’s system. The world does not want Scott to have nice moments. “Jackson is the lizard monster, or at least, a lizard monster. I think he’s the one that killed our principal.” Stiles stopped his journey to the door and moved to sit on the end of the bed. 

“What?” Was all Scott could respond with.

“I knew that guy was evil. But what makes you so sure it’s Jackson?” Stiles had the better, more productive response.

“I saw him shift into it in front of his house.” 

“Sounds like an airtight conclusion to me.” Even though he said it, it still took a few more seconds for Stiles and Scott to really understand what Isaac was telling them. Scott threw it together.

“Wait, so Jackson killed the Principal, and you just saw he leaving his house to undoubtedly kill again? So, why are you telling us? We can’t do anything about it.”

“Yeah, I have no desire to see it again. No offense to your wolf look, Scott, but this thing was hundred times scarier. It has a tail.”

“And I have fangs and claws.” Scott couldn’t help but feel slightly offended by that.

“And when was the last time you killed a veteran hunter, Scott? It tore through Principal Argent like he was nothing.”

“Not “It”, Jackson.” Isaac amended. “And I was on my way to my Derek... I don’t know why I came here.”

“I believe Scott and I have a working theory for that.” Scott pushed Stiles in what might have been intended to be lightly, but ending up almost knocking him off of the bed. Isaac looked to both of them for a continued answer.

“Never mind that, we need to go stop Jackson before he hurts someone else.” Scott quickly decided.

“We, why do we have to do anything? You just said we couldn’t do anything.” Stiles asked once he regained his balance. Scott actually thought about it.

“I know, but... if it wasn’t for me... Derek wouldn’t have needed to bite him in the first place. I’m responsible for this.”

“You’re not responsible for Jackson being some damn lizard monster, if anything, this is Derek’s fault for not knowing how to properly turn people into werewolves.”

“Wolf people.” Isaac amended.

“I’m guessing you want me to start calling Jackson a lizard person too.”

“Better than monster.” 

“Hey, if the bloodied claws fit.” Isaac’s eyes flashed yellow as he stared Stiles down.

“STOP, we don’t have time for this.” Scott broke in. By the time they got a plan into action, Jackson could be on his third kill already. “Isaac, call Derek, in fact, howl so it makes everyone come, if you can, and try to howl so they know how urgent it is, if you can.”

“I can, but it might be easier if I just call him.” Isaac said, talking out his phone. Right, phones still exist. Scott wondered why he didn’t have Peter’s number and what that meant. “Derek? That thing you told us to watch out for, I saw it,” Scott didn’t like the familiar way Isaac spoke to Derek. He understood he was Isaac’s Alpha, but that didn’t stop the pang of jealousy he felt. “It’s Jackson. I don’t know where he was going... I’m with Scott... no, should I have followed him?... okay, we will... we will.... bye.” Scott had heard both bits of the conversation. He heard Derek ask if Isaac knew where Jackson was going, when he told Isaac they would meet back at Jackson’s house to try to follow his scent from there, and to be careful. So he wasn’t surprised when Isaac relayed the message.

“Why bother going there? We know where he’s going, at least, where he is most likely going.” Stiles said.

“We do?” Isaac asked, Stiles rolled his eyes. Honestly, these wolves wouldn’t know their heads from their tails without him. And as much as he loves to explain his thinking process, this called for a short, straight to the point, version. 

“Let’s just get in my car, I’ll explain on the way.” He said as he rolled off of the bed in a way that he hoped made him look cool and agile. The wolf people in the room did not look impressed, but they followed him out anyway. 

 

As they made it out of the house, across town, a family was sitting down to a slightly late dinner. It had been a trying week for the Argents. There had been a funeral. And the police and news reporters were constantly demanding their time and attention. If she wasn’t grieving the loss of her grandfather, Allison was parrying questions from police, news reporters, classmates, family friends and even her own parents. Everyone wanted to know what happened.

It was one thing to live in a world where people could slightly shift into animal-like killers, it was another for full grown, horrendous monsters to exist. She had heard stories, urban legends or folk tales really, that some wolf people could shift into full wolves, like the totally powerful ones could. She was fairly certain that her father only told her that so she could separate the human face she sees with the monster within when the time would come to shoot her arrows. 

There were no thoughts of green monsters or wolves or how more of her classmates are turning into wolves. Tonight was all about having a nice dinner with her best friend and her family. Tonight was about getting a taste of, not just good food, but of normal. 

“Kate, you have to tell me where you got those boots you walked in with.” Lydia was saying to Aunt Kate. The only bright spot in losing her grandfather was that it has allowed her to see her aunt again for the first time in over a year, and even then she only came down for holidays. 

“They’re hot, right, though I doubt you’ll be able to find them at Macy’s.”

“Clearly, you haven’t been there in a while.” the ladies smiled at each other and the rest of the dinner table was equally amused by the conversation. A conversation that got interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Allison rolled her eyes. Would the reporters ever stop? Her dad signaled that he would get it. As he stood up, a loud thump was heard, it came from somewhere upstairs. The Argents exchanged looks. 

The doorbell began to ring continuously. 

Mrs. Victoria Argent took charge. They would all check the door first, it could still be just a reporter, and then Chris and Kate would head upstairs. Hand guns are quickly loaded and large knives are taken from the kitchen. They all headed down the hallway, to the entrance to the house, and where the staircase was. They surrounded the door. Chris opened it and aimed his gun. 

He aimed it at Stiles, who promptly raised his hands in surrender.

“WOAH, hey, did you kill it already.... or are you in the middle of fighting it... you have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?’

“Who are you?” Chris looked from Stiles to the person stood diagonally behind him.

“Dad, he was at the video store that night, the Sheriff's son... and that one’s Isaac.” It was the awareness of Isaac, one of the suspected newly turned werewolves that caused guns and knives to be raised again. However, Chris lowered his gun. Though the presence of neither boy made sense, Isaac clearly wasn’t about to attack, in fact, he might take off running by the looks of it. And there’s the fact that it wasn’t usual for a werewolf to willingly come to a hunter’s house via the front door and announce his presence. Something bigger must be going on.

“Right, but it’s okay, Isaac's... we’re not here to hurt you. Hey, Lydia, you’re looking lovely this evening.” 

“Then why are you here?”

“Umm... well, this is going to sound strange now, but see, we got this notion in our heads that... the person that attacked Principal Argent may very well be coming after you, tonight.” The sound of glass breaking somewhere on the other side of the house, in the kitchen maybe, was then heard. Scott was also spotted slowly tiptoeing his way across the upstairs walkway, which can be seen from the downstairs entryway. 

“It’s an ambush!” Victoria declared. She motioned for Kate and Chris to head to the back of the house, the girls were to take care of their classmates at the door and she started up the stairs herself, large knife raised. It all happened so fast that Stiles barely had time to register that Lydia and Allison were now coming towards him and Isaac with knives. He glanced at Isaac, only to see yellow eyes staring straight ahead, which was the opposite of what they needed right now. 

“Hey, no wait, Isaac, bad, no, shit.” Lydia was closer. Isaac moved first, he grabbed the back of Stiles’s shirt and pushed the guy at their first attacker. Lydia instinctually lowered her knife, but she couldn’t stop Stiles from colliding with her and neither of them could stop the painful fall to the ground. Damn high heels. Isaac had his claws out by the time he entered the house. He looked from Allison, who was near the stairs, to the stairs. He tried to go to the stairs first. Allison blocked him.

On the second level of the house, Victoria had taken the stairs two at a time. Scott started to walk backwards and he kept his hands up and claw free.

“Wait, no, we came here to warn you, to help. Something much more dangerous than us is after you, your family.” Either Victoria hadn’t heard him or she didn’t care, because she just kept coming. 

Perhaps, they should have called first. 

A growl rang out behind Scott, which made him stop his retreat and turn around. Derek was there, fangs bared. Well, this won’t help their story, but a least he feels a bit safer now. 

“I’m sorry, I’m having a hard time believing you.” Victoria said, thankfully she had slowed in her attack after Derek came into sight.

“Yeah, I figured.”

Over at the back of the house, Chris and Kate cautiously entered the kitchen. The back door was wide open, but there was no intruder to be seen. Kate glanced into the dinning room, which also looked empty. She looked over to her brother who reflected her confusion, then she saw his eyes look behind her and widen. 

“Kate!” But it was too late, whatever it was, it struck it’s claws into the back of Kate’s neck. Blood gushed from the wounds as Kate fell lifelessly to the ground. With his sister down, Chris got a clear view of the thing that attacked her, and may have killed her, though his mind wasn’t ready to go there quite yet. It was just like Allison had described. But it didn’t matter if it was the same or a whole new creature, Chris aimed his gun and started firing. Bullets hit the scaly thing’s shoulders and chest and a slight arm adjustment sent two bullets into it’s head. The thing reeled back, but then it yelled and kept moving forward, straight for Chris, who was now out of bullets. 

Back to the front of the house and rewinding time a bit. Isaac, who was being blocked from helping Scott upstairs by Allison, charged ahead. He tried to block Allison's attack with his arm, only to have her knife go into his arm. His silent scream wasn’t vocalized until she pulled the knife out. By then, it was more of a loud intake of breath than a pained yell. He retreated back and into Stiles, who just stood up after being shoved away by Lydia. Stiles might have been relishing in their contact a bit too much. Isaac looked fully human again. Allison stepped towards them, bloody knife raised, but she stopped and looked at the doorway. The others followed her gaze and they saw Boyd and Erica coming up the walkway. 

Upstairs, Derek stood between Victoria and Scott.

“Is it here?” He asked Scott.

“I don’t know, I don’t think so.” Victoria charged at Derek, who easily caught her arm and then swiftly shoved her back. She landed on her back a few feet away, but was quickly getting up again. 

“What? But Isaac said-”

“Stiles said it might come here because of who it attacked last, and he said something about a Hale’s natural enemy, since you bit Jackson, I didn’t really understand it all.”

“MIGHT, I’m risking my life, my pack’s life, on a MIGHT?” 

Just as Scott thought Derek was going to attack him, just as Stiles thought he should get out of the way of a fight that was seconds away from occurring between teen hunters and wolves, a gun’s shots were heard and a yell rang out that was so familiar to Stiles’s ears, it kept him rooted. It also made the entire scene at the front of the house freeze momentarily. 

Allison broke the stillness with an, “Oh, god.” for she had recognized the yell too. Her words got Stiles moving again. 

“We need to get out of here!” he said as he started pushing Isaac and Lydia towards the door and tried to get the others to follow. Derek growled from upstairs. Scott jumped down and stood in front of Allison, and in the way of whatever was coming down the hallway. The lizard monster, known as Jackson by day, slithered into the room on all fours. Scott slowly shifted and bent down, prepared to fight it. 

But he wasn’t really prepared, because the thing leaped at him and they both went down. It/Jackson dug his claws into his arm and the fight was pretty much over for Scott. Isaac attacked Jackson next, before he could strike Scott again. Isaac made the mistake of digging his own claws into the poisonous body, and then started feeling his whole body go numb, which is really more like experiencing a head to toe lack of feeling. Boyd and Erica followed suit, attacking, but they met the same fate as the others. Jackson didn’t even glance at Allison or Lydia, who were wise and scared enough to stay in their respective corners of the room, or in Lydia’s case, standing in the living room. 

Jackson made his way up the stairs, meeting Derek half way. Derek kept his claws back as he lunged, aiming to tackle the thing down, but Jackson jumped up and used Derek’s forward leaning body as a springboard to help him complete his journey to the top of the stairs and to his next target, Victoria. It turned to her as Victoria backed away. Jackson then ran at her, grabbed her around the throat and continued running down the hall and out of sight.

With all the wolves paralyzed, except for Derek, who had tumbled down the stairs head first, and was currently motionless at the bottom, it left Stiles, Allison, and Lydia able to move in the house or do anything, really. Allison, with her knife raised, went upstairs, foolishly going after the monster who had her mother. Stiles went to Scott. Lydia, with shaky legs, made her way outside to get away from it all. 

Which made her the first one to see Peter, who gave her a small, friendly wave. 

Stiles prodded Scott in various places as he asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I can’t move though, where’s Allison?”

“Forget about your old crush for now, she’s got a whole family of hunters to help her. We need to get out of here before that thing comes back.”

“Where’s Isaac?” Stiles gestured frantically in a bout of frustration before pulling Isaac by his hair over to Scott. He let go of Isaac when he heard the sound of glass breaking from upstairs. When he looked over, he also saw Derek get up. They exchanged a look that Stiles didn’t know to interpret as “stay here” or “get everyone out” or “that’ll do, pig”. He watched Derek quickly head out the front door. He looked back at Scott and shear curiosity drove him to stand. His friend may be part wolf, but Stiles was definitely part cat. He peered out at the scene outside from the doorway. He saw Derek gently nudge Lydia out of his way, which gave both of them a good view of the other Alpha. Stiles couldn’t decide if this was good or bad.

Upstairs, Jackson had busted out of a window, was now on the roof in front of the house, and then jumped to the ground below, all with Victoria in tow. The banged up hunter was barely breathing in his grip. A grip he loosened when he caught sight of Peter. A grip he almost let go of completely when Lydia screamed. Jackson turned around to face the source of the sounds. Derek took a step in front of her. Jackson started to lose his tail and all of his other reptilian features as he stared at his wide eyed girlfriend. He dropped Victoria completely. 

“J--Jackson?” If Lydia hadn’t been made of stronger stuff, she would have fainted at the sight of seeing a vicious killer turn into her boyfriend, end up being her boyfriend. Instead, she had to witness every second with horrific clarity. She saw him transform, she saw the stranger from earlier walk towards him, she saw claws come out of his fingers, his eyes glow red, and before she could utter another word, she saw the pained expression on her boyfriend’s face as he was attacked from behind. He fell to the ground once the stranger removed his claws. Lydia, not caring if it was dangerous or not, ran over to him. 

Stiles could only guess that what Peter had just done was okay, since Derek hadn’t done anything to stop it. Also, Jackson still looked to be alive, not that he was really checking since he would rather not see the girl he likes hug the naked guy she loves. While not looking, he saw Derek duck his head and then put his hand in his hair. Stiles leaned in, but he didn’t see anything in Derek’s hand, though his hand did look shiny under the flood lights. Does he moisturize? 

“Oh no.” Before Stiles could ask him, “what”, Derek was falling back. Stiles reluctantly caught him. Scott’s hero complex must be rubbing off on him. 

“Oh, okay... ummm... help, someone... Lydia, Jackson... Peter?” That was when the sound of sirens could be heard. “Oh, no, no, no, no.” He saw Peter say something to Lydia before he picked Jackson up bridal style. Stiles automatically moved out of the way, dragging Derek with him. 

“Get them out of sight, I’ll handle the police.” Peter said once he entered. He carried Jackson to the living room and set him down on the couch. Lydia settled on the floor by his side. 

“What happened? What’s going on?” Scott was asking from the ground. But there was no time to pay him any attention. Peter went back out and brought Victoria in, she, he simply dropped on the floor of the living room. He then told Stiles, who hadn’t moved at all, to hurry. Since Derek wasn’t getting any lighter, he followed in Peter’s footsteps and laid him down, albeit more gently, next to Victoria on the floor of the living room. By then, Peter was outside again, ready to meet the cops. 

It was then that Stiles realized that if the police in this town were here, there was a good chance his father was among them, and even if he wasn’t, every cop in town knew his jeep, and yes, his jeep was parked right outside, in plain view. 

“STILES!” He hates being right sometimes. Stiles tried his best to move everybody out of view from the doorway. He was about to just throw a rug on top of Boyd when he heard his dad yell his name again. He took a deep breath. At worst, he could say he just busted a drug deal gone horribly wrong... and Scott was stupid enough to sniff the product. Or during an innocent study session, the lizard masked guy with the paralytic agent and a sharp knife just broke in and ran rampant around the house. There was definitely enough evidence to back that story up. He nodded to himself as he opened the door Peter had shut and stepped outside. “Stiles.” His father had sounded angry before, but now he just looked relieved to see him. All words left Stiles’s head as he walked forward and wrapped his arms around his dad’s shoulders, soaking in the safety only his father could give.

Back inside, Derek wasn’t even blinking since he was now paralyzed from head to toe. So naturally, he could do nothing to stop Victoria Argent from dragging herself towards him, inserting her bloodied arm into his mouth, and, by pushing his jaw, forcing him to bite down.


	7. Makeshift  Band-Aid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is an emotional mess in the wake of the attack at the Argent's house. On top of that, Scott confronts Peter, hunters, and everything else life is throwing at him. Stiles gets some shocking news. When piling on the drama; someone's bound to get hurt. Someone does.

Tonight we bring you a special report about the latest story that is snagging the headlines: The beasts of Beacon Hills. Parents all across the nation are now wondering, once again, if their children are safe, and more frighteningly, if they are safe from their children. We will now turn over to our investigative reporter, Jeff Davis, for an inside report on exactly what took place in Beacon Hills last Friday evening.

Thanks Jim Bob, as Jim mentioned, there are certain questions no parents want to find themselves asking. Questions such as, Does your child have a hard time sleeping at night? Has his behavior at school and at home become more aggressive? Is there a noticeable amount of hair growing on the palms of his hands? If you have consecutively answered “yes” to all of these questions, then your child may have been turned into a wolf person. Known on the streets as Werewolves, these notoriously vicious brand of genetically enhanced human beings have been plaguing our world since genetic engineering made the first cloned animal in 1899. From their conception to now, this breed of man has had to endure a mass genocide in the early decades to a social movement towards equal rights. In the late 60s, the every growing movement would later lead to the passing of the amendment to the Enhanced Humans Equal Rights Act to include the protection of wolf people. However, even today, fear and discrimination against wolf EH’s can still be felt on a grand scale. In fact, the little town of Beacon Hills is no stranger to crimes of hatred towards this one particular group of people. 

But before we delve into Beacon Hills’s past, a more recent example as to why wolf people are so feared and hated has occurred. As many of you have already heard, on Friday, September 19th a gruesome scene was discovered at the home of Christopher and Victoria Argent. What you don’t know was that this unfortunate family was already in the process of mourning the death of another family member, Christopher’s father, and Beacon Hills High School’s Principal, Gerard Argent, when their home was broken into by the same person that attacked Gerard, leaving one family member dead, and yet another, Victoria Argent, a wife and mother, missing. The attacker tore through his victims in an animalistic fashion. All signs would point to a wolf person’s involvement.

However, police were not quick to suspect two alleged wolf people, Peter Hale, and his nephew Derek, of Beacon Hills, who were at the house on the night of the attack. If this picture of Peter Hale looks familiar to you, it is because you may have seen him around town, under the alias of Mr. Peter Heart. Witnesses state that the two men, along with a group of minors, showed up at the Argent residence to help protect and defend them against the attack. 

If their story, so far, seems unlikely, then it is about to get unbelievable. Just how did the Hales know the Argents were going to be under attack? Why did the attacker only kill members of the Argent family, while simply subduing everyone else with a paralytic agent? And even more puzzling, why would the Hale family even help the Argents, who were accused of being involved in a house fire that took the lives of a majority of the Hale family six years ago? Stayed tuned, as I try to uncover the answers to these questions and more. Up next, hear about the tragic tale of the close knit Hale family, the vicious rumor that ignited a town, and the fire that took their lives. 

Melissa McCall turned off the TV in the living room as the words, “From Hale to Heart to Hero” crawled across the bottom of the screen. She then forced her son to go to school. When he tried to claim that he was still shaken up from what happened at the Argents, she was quick to point out how mentally sound he seemed yesterday when Stiles came over to play video games, all day. Scott cursed her logic. 

Though there was some falsehoods in her reasoning. But of course, how could she know that while he and Stiles were “playing video games”, they were really researching as to what Jackson had been, as well as coming up with corroborating stories for what “happened” at the Argents' house, when asked...? Being a part of the paralyzed group had given Scott a day to not have to talk to the police, but later that Sunday, he would have to. By now, Monday morning, he was already forgetting the lies he had told, something about Stiles’s car breaking down in front of the Argents' house. 

Any hope of also forgetting what really happened at the Argent House disappeared when Scott saw the line of reporters outside of the school. Being a minor kept his name out of the news, but Allison, being an Argent, wasn’t so lucky. He doubted she would even show up to school today. He wondered if he was the only one who would. 

That thought got answered when he saw Stiles by his locker. He hurried over.

“Morning.” 

“Morning.” 

“Did you see the media outside? It’s insane. I don’t think there was this many news crews around back when the Hale fire happened.” Stiles figured.

“Yeah, it would have been pretty impossible to miss.” Though Scott could remember a time, quite a few years ago now, when his parents and the news were constantly talking about this kid who had drowned in a pool. His parents then insisted on swimming lessons. It was one of the scarier things Scott has ever had to do. Perhaps the motivation to learn shouldn’t have involved a dead kid. Just saying; parents could have tried a different approach.

“Man, I feel like we’re in some kind of secret organization or something. We know what no one else knows, and, like, what we know is huge and mumble mumble...”

“Scott.” came another voice, it sounded softer than Stiles’s voice and yet it blocked out what his best friend was saying. “I know you can hear me. I need you to follow the sound of my voice.” Scott didn’t move at first. He didn’t want to move. It was the voice of his Peter; his alpha was calling him. 

“Dude, are you listening to anything I’m... where are you going?”

“My Peter’s calling me.” ALPHA. He has to go.

“Your what? Scott, stop.” One tug showed Stiles that he would never be able to physically stop a wolf possessed Scott. So he did the next best thing; he followed him. They were brought to the door to the boys’ locker room. Stiles has seen many horror and adult films start out this way. Stiles couldn’t leave his friend to be killed or frisked by Peter. Werewolf porn. Fur flying everywhere. Stop. Just Stop. Okay, so he doubted either of those things would happen. But something was definitely sketchy about this set up.

“Stay here.”

“What? No.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll fill you in when I come out.” Part of Stiles, the part attached to his pride, still wanted to go. The other part was more than happy to not have to see Peter again. The image of him slicing through Jackson had given him enough nightmare fodder for weeks. Oddly, he would actually feel better if one of the other teen wolves were here too. Or his dad. His dad would work too.

Scott entered the locker room. He quickly turned on the lights as he did so, but he still jerked back in surprise when his Peter was found leaning against a locker right around the corner. Scott almost ran into him. 

“Scotty, long time no see. I just came here to remind you that I am your Alpha, and Derek isn’t. So, when you have any wolf related questions or concerns, problems in general, you are to bring them to me, not Derek, and also not to your little human friend, Stanley.”

“Stiles.”

“Whatever. Let’s take what happened on Friday as an example. Jackson, who is technically Derek’s responsibility, was seen running around, jonesing for a massacre. Now Isaac did the right thing by calling his Alpha for help. Where was my call, Scott?”

“I don’t have your number.” Nor did Scott want to think of himself as part of his...as part of Peter’s pack. He was more than a little pissed off that the whole possessive pronoun thing was back. 

“There is more than one way to call me, surely, your newest BFFs have taught you that.” A pause. “No? Well surely, by now, you have been taught how to isolate, focus or subdue your senses when needed.” Scott had figured time would make that happen, like with natural senses. “No? Well, surely, Derek has told you about all the chemicals and substances that can kill you or kill, at least, the wolf that is now vitally attached to you.” Okay, so he was a little behind on his wolf homework; he had been looking up information on the thing he _knew_ could kill him, lizard Jackson... or a...Can..enima..Caneeba? “I can tell by the confused look on your face that you don’t have the slightest idea of what I am talking about.”

“So I’m still new to this wolf thing, what do you expect? I just turned. You’ve been like this, for like, fifty years.”

“Hurtful. I’m sorry, have I somehow upset you? Because having “just turned” isn’t going to prevent you from being “just killed”. I’m trying to help you survive here. I think a little gratitude is in order.”

“Thanks, really, but I don’t need your help.”

“Don’t need it, or don’t want it?” 

“I don't want it.” For how close h- Peter was standing next to him, Scott couldn’t believe he had the balls to actually say that. But there it was, his rejection. Hopefully, it wouldn’t result in his demise. He felt better when Peter took an easy, non-threatening step back. He held his hands up.

“I’m not here to force you, Scott,” he said, then gave a small smile, “Though I do believe you are making a mistake. It is very rare for an Omega-”

“To make it on his own, I know. But I’ve been doing just fine so far-”

“You’ve had help so far. If you truly wish to take the lone wolf route, you will need to stop relying on other wolves to help you. In other words,...” a dramatic pause. “you will need to stop fraternizing with Derek’s pack.” 

“What do you mean?” It’s not like he can avoid Derek’s pack; they go to the same school. And he doesn’t consciously seek them out. Well, except the time Derek asked him to...

“Well, I’m not one to gossip, but I don’t think Derek can take any more losses right now. So, and this is just some more friendly advice, I think it’s best if you stayed away from his Isaac.” More losses?... His Isaac?

“His Isaac?”

“His Isaac.” Peter repeated as he walked pass Scott. When he rounded the corner, Scott tried to follow; he wanted Peter to elaborate. But when he turned the corner himself, Peter was gone. He wasn’t in the hallway where Stiles was impatiently waiting, either. Damn ninja wolf. 

“Did you see him?”

“You mean he’s not still in there?” Stiles asked, then he took a deep breath. “What did he say? What did he want? Was it about what happened at the Argents? Was it about him being your Alpha? Did you join his pack? There is only two of you, right? You did, didn’t you. Is he gonna train you now? And slightly off topic, but do you experience knotting when you masturbate?”

“What, you mean like a hand cramp?”

“Scratch that last one, just answer the rest.”

“I don’t even remember the first.”

“The first was more of a Known Answer Question. Anyway, what did he want?” Scott filled Stiles in as much as he could. It was difficult because, besides the bit where Peter wanted him to stop getting help from Derek, he wasn’t sure what to think of the rest of their conversation, let alone explain it. “So, he’s letting you be an Omega then? No more of that creepy “my Peter” thing?”

“I guess so.” Even after having said it, Scott didn’t feel any different. There was no rush of freedom. No loss in overall power. Maybe it took more than words to leave a pack. Maybe he had to physically go to the Hale House and... then walk away from it...? He was on high alert on his way to class. He also wondered with Stiles what Peter could have meant by Derek having “losses”. Stiles thought he meant the fight at the Argent’s house. Apparently, Derek hadn’t performed very well on the fighting front. The whole thing was a bit of a blur for Scott. Except when he faced Victoria. And then when he mainly faced the ceiling. 

He suffered a loss too by that definition. He had to push the complex thoughts involving recent events away to try and absorb any amount of information during his first class.

After his first class, the only thing Scott absorbed was that he had failed the essay assignment, was another chapter behind on the reading, that they had begun another book entirely (The Perks of Being an Enhanced Human), and that Erica Reyes wasn’t in class. 

Throughout the day he learned that Boyd and Isaac weren’t in school either. Stiles tried to ease his mind by reminding him that they had all been attacked and were witnesses to what had happened on Friday. Their parents could be keeping them home, or Derek could be, or maybe they just didn’t feel like coming in. Theories Scott would be sure to repeat to his mother with a well placed pout. 

“You know who I am surprised showed up,” Scott looked up from his locker, where he had been trying to remember which books he needed to take home later. He used to be so organized. He looked to Stiles. Stiles was looking elsewhere. “Her.” Scott followed his gaze. Most things, people, objects, tend to move a lot more slowly to Scott’s eyes than they used to. The only time things looked like they were moving at a “normal” speed was when he observed some of the movements and actions of the other wolves. So when he saw Allison walking towards him, he realized she must be booking it, speeding straight at him, because her speed appeared normal. He also noted that she did not look happy. 

He didn’t try to stop her as she pushed him against a locker. He knew blocking the attack might actually incite a fight. Danny and Lydia were soon by her side. Stiles said hi to everyone as if Allison's behavior towards Scott was normal. 

“Hi, Allison.” Scott also greeted. He used to have fantasies of Allison placing her hands on his chest, pressing her body against his. Reality hurts. Then it also struck him that he was a werewolf and he was being roughly questioned by a werewolf hunter. This once sexy fantasy just took a frightful turn. It was the end of the school day, students were trickling out, teachers couldn’t care less what was happening in the halls, and he was due in the locker room to change for practice. All things must, except the latter, must have factored into Allison’s decision to attack him now. “Is something wrong?”

“Which one of your little Lupine friends did it?” Yup, the werewolf/hunter relationship has fully been established. And still unsettling. 

“I... can honestly say I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She pushed him again, but with a little less force than the first time. 

“In the cemetery, which one of you scratched, or rather, clawed up, my Grandfather’s headstone?” Scott shook his head, even if he had known what she was talking about, it wouldn’t clue him in on the answers she wanted. 

“Now wait a minute, first off, do we really need to use violence to ask a guy a question? And Scott wouldn’t know anything about any tombstone or about the shenanigans other... people in this town may be up to because he isn’t a part of any... shenanigan doing gangs.” Scott wondered if Stiles knew-

“We know he’s a werewolf, dumbass.” Danny interjected.

“Well, bitch, did you know they’re actually called Wolf People. Yeah, that’s right. They don’t howl at the moon or get killed by silver bullets.”

“Not unless there’s wolf's bane inside them.” Lydia added. Scott, the wolf person, felt disappointed with himself for once again being reminded how little he knew about his wolf self. He would google “wolf's bane” when he got home, after practice, after work, after visiting Hale House (he wanted to try that leaving thing). Or he could just ask Stiles later. 

“So you really don’t know?” Allison brought the conversation back on topic. Scott shook his head again. As Allison let him go, Scott also felt his fantasy romance with the girl in front of him ending. It’s hard to keep imagining the impossible. Some more glares were exchanged, mainly between Stiles and the other three.

When there was enough distance between them, Scott said, “I’ll pray for you the day Harris pairs you up with one of them in Chemistry.”

“Won’t happen, cause... crap, they are all there, aren’t they. You don’t think they’ll hurt me do you? You know, for being affiliated with wolf people?”

“If they don’t hurt me, then they won’t hurt you.”

“Allison just hurt you.”

“I’d said I’d pray. Though I’m more worried about what Danny might do during practice today. Or any day.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Danny’s ever liked me. I don’t think gay guys like me in general.”

“What does being gay have to, you know what, I don’t even want to know how you came to that conclusion.” Stiles started answering him anyway.

“It started in sixth grade, you know, when everyone was “pairing up” for school dances and stuff...” Scott couldn’t help grinning the whole way to the locker room, despite what had just occurred. 

Practice went just fine, without much incident. Scott was able to able to let out some of the aggression his wolf experienced when Allison had pushed him. Nothing too excessive. It just looked like he had a lot of enthusiasm for the game. Plus he felt awesome every time he got the ball past Danny and into the goal. Stiles began his personal cheerleader. 

After practice, he may have ridden his bike over a few choice vehicles on his way to work. His wolf really doesn’t like being pushed around. He was also able to process the day while he was at work. His mind ran though his confrontation with Peter and with Allison. He wondered if the reason the other wolves, the Betas, weren’t in school today and what happened at the cemetery were connected. Didn’t Isaac’s dad work at the cemetery as the caretaker? Scott remembers seeing him at the funeral for Stiles’s mom. 

Something wasn’t adding up. And he had a feeling, once he finally entered his room that evening, and he caught sight of Isaac sitting on the edge of his bed, that it would all make sense shortly. 

 

Across town, Lydia Martin was also trying to gain all the facts. Her inquiry had to do with Friday, her mind hadn’t drifted away from that night for a minute. Life changed Friday. Entire truths were ripped apart. In its wake, it left more than a couple of bodies; if left the remaining family members and a young girl broken. Loved ones were dead. A loved one was a murderer. The murderer. Werewolves saved their lives. 

The world might as well be flat at this point; nothing sane made sense. What was wrong and right, good and evil, had twisted itself into a hundred shades of gray area and Lydia didn’t know where she stood in it all. The only thing keeping her from completely losing it, from smashing mirrors just to see them break the way glass should and does, was the fact that no matter how unsteady she felt, Allison was going through worse. And she refused to let her best friend go through this alone, or without the care and support she needed.

What Allison needed now was to talk about Friday in a factual, formal, far removed from emotion, way. They had covered the basics: where they were throughout the night and what they saw. They filled in the gaps that being paralyzed or not in the same room had left. All that was left was the ending. While Allison was upstairs, paralyzed after touching the sticky ledge of the window Jackson had jumped out of with her mom in tow, Lydia was in the front yard, hugging, seeking comfort amid all the horrific chaos, from her murderous, human again boyfriend. 

“What was he, did your dad ever find out?” Lydia partly wanted to know and partly wanted to avoid any follow up questions about her current thoughts and feelings on Jackson.

“No, but he thinks it’s werewolf related, like the offspring of inbreeding or something.”

“Jackson got turned by two wolves?” 

“I don’t know. Dad’s pretty convinced that it’s over now. He should be okay, however... ”

“However?” And now it was the part of the conversation that Allison had wanted to avoid. She had also hoped her genius friend would have figured it out.

“Think Lydia, you said that that man, that werewolf, sunk his claws into him, even if it wasn’t werewolf related before...” She let Lydia fill in the blank.

“Great, my boyfriend goes from one type of killer to another... or maybe not.”

“If he doesn’t turn from the bite, he’ll die.”

“I mean, being a werewolf won’t necessarily make him a killer. Look at all the teen Betas in town. Can you really imagine Scott McCall killing anybody? Plus... the werewolves came to help us, didn’t they, to help fight Jackson.”

“And? How did they even know he was going to attack us? For all we know they led him right to us. You know how the Hales hate my family, blame us for the Hale fire.” Allison refused to believe that a family that would probably rejoice in her family’s demise had selflessly gone out of their way to help them. It just didn’t add up. 

“But Scott was there... and Stiles.” Lydia felt like they were missing or overlooking some key information, like they only knew the ending to a much larger story arc, one her boyfriend had played a large role in. 

“Those two are totally attached at the hip. And Scott was probably just following his Alpha’s orders, whichever Hale it is. He probably doesn’t even know about the Hale fire and really thought they were here to help us, which doesn’t make him less of a dangerous werewolf, just more of an idiot.” Lydia made a sound like she couldn’t argue with that.

“Ladies,” Danny, who had recently signed up for counseling in order to talk through how he felt about his best friend having been temporally turned into a mindless killer and how his targets had been the family members of his other best friend, poked his head into the room. “Thought you might be interested to know that there has been a Beta sighting. Boyd and Reyes are running loose in the woods, pack-less.”

“Lets go then, the crossbow is mine.” Allison announced, standing up.

“But I thought we just agreed that the werewolves helped save us?”

“Just because some of them will blindly follow any orders, it doesn’t mean they all aren’t also untamed monsters that need to be taken down.” Lydia sighed, for some reason it felt like that had gone two small steps forward and one large leap back. She really wasn’t up for more violence just yet. She got ready to leave with her best friends anyway.

 

Leaving, thought Scott, how could Isaac be leaving! 

“Leaving? You just got here.” And so he voiced that thought. Isaac stood up when Scott had entered.

“I mean, I’m leaving Beacon Hills... or I might. Erica and Boyd are leaving-”

“Why? Is that why they weren’t in school today? Why you weren’t?”

“My Derek didn’t think it was a good idea, what with Argent’s daughter and the other hunters being there. They could easily try to get revenge for what happened.” Knew it.

“What happened wasn’t our fault... well, actually, it was Derek’s fault for turning Jackson into that thing, but the Argents don’t know that.”

“Did it look like they needed much reason to attack us? Allison’s knife almost went through my arm.” Scott’s eyes went straight to Isaac’s arms; he hadn’t known that little fact. “I’m fine now.” Isaac added. Good, that’s settled, now back to that crazy “leaving” talk.

“And why are all you leaving?”

“Ah, well... I never wanted this, any of this, and even if Erica and Boyd did, it’s not what they expected. We don’t feel safe... with our Derek. He’s...” Isaac looked around before continuing. “I don’t think he’s a very good Alpha. And Peter just scares me.”

“Peter scares me too.” It was Scott’s turn to look around. Those Hales had a way of sneaking up on you. Isaac gave a small, but still gorgeous, smile. 

“I guess I just... want your advice, if I should go.” Try, hell no, you can’t go. Scott had already lost one crush today, he refused to lose another. And his wolf really wanted to hump Isaac’s everything. Focus, Scott.

“Why me?” Really, Scott, really? Isaac shrugged.

“Because I trust you.” He made such powerful statements so easily. He almost asked “why” again, but then he remembered that it was him that Isaac had gone to after seeing lizard Jackson run down the street and not Derek. A little fact that still left him feeling splendid. Important. Trusted. This was the perfect time to tell Isaac exactly how he feels about the thought of him leaving, and about him in general.

“And you can trust me. And I want you to know t-” There was a brief knock on his door and then his mother appeared. His bravado deflated. His libido recoiled. Mothers.

“Scott, I want a-oh, hello.” Isaac hunched into himself. He gave a small wave. 

“Uh, Mom, this is Isaac, and we are sort of in the middle of something important, so if you could just give us, like, f-”

“Is it as important as your grades?” Uh oh, a classic parent and slash or adult trap. Say what they want to hear, not how you really feel.

“No.” Hopefully Isaac knew about parent traps.

“Then is it okay if you hang out with Isaac some other time?” Isaac was already moving towards the window. NO, there may not BE another time. 

“NO... I mean... yes...” Scott shut his eyes, but he could still hear Isaac leaving. 

“Scott, why don’t your friends like to use the front door? Girls don’t come in through that window, do they?”

“Is that what you came in here to talk to me about?” And what she scared away Isaac for. 

“No, but... remember that talk we had a few weeks ago, when your other boss was here, and the part where you weren’t doing your school work?” 

“Yeah.” was the humbled and dejected response. Now Scott was glad Isaac had left. He had to appreciate that his mom always scolded, if at all, him in private. Twice in the same month may actually be a new record for them. 

 

Speaking of records, over at the Stilinski household, Stiles had just broken his own Tetris record. It was worth the last five hours he spent to achieve it. SOOOOO worth it. He had needed it too. For five hours, there were no thoughts of wolves or hunters or lizard monsters or how he could fall victim to all and any of them. He was glad that Scott wasn’t in Peter’s pack anymore, but he also didn’t like the idea of them actually being on their own in all of this. Having Isaac or Erica... or even Derek supply them with information, and more importantly, back up if and when their lives were in danger had been nice, good, helpful, needed. And despite how hard Stiles was trying, he didn’t think he could get Scott through this on his own. There was still so much he didn’t know. Plus he’s useless in a fight.

His eyes slid back to the Tetris game, he wanted that blissful feeling back. But then he heard his dad pull up. His game was forgotten as he grabbed his hoodie. It was dinner time. He made his way to the door just as his dad was coming in. 

‘What-” usually they went out for food, together. It was a rule, a rule his father knew quite well. It was in place in order to prevent the Sheriff from consuming any foods that were bad for his health. 

“It’s just easier this way.” His dad explained as he held up the food bags. Stiles quickly grabbed a bag before his father even had a chance to take his shoes off. He found the curly fry box. It was half empty. He held it up to his father’s face.

“I got a small, for you.”

“A small that comes in a large box?”

“They ran out of small boxes.” Stiles used his other hand to place it under his dad’s chin. 

“Open up.” He tried to see and smell curly fries on his father’s person, especially the mouth area. Scott would come in handy for this. 

“Let go, a few fries aren’t going to kill me.” Stiles’s jaw dropped as he father walked into their dining room area and placed the rest of their meal down. 

“Actually, a few fries could be the very thing that kills you. “

“You didn’t set the table?”

“I- don’t change the subject.” Eventually, the table was set and the food was laid out. One particular food item caught Stiles’s attention, when he grabbed it out of the bag, he just stood there at the table next to his chair, holding it. It was a box of Swedish fish. It was his favorite candy. However, the last time his dad had come home with the treat for him, he, along with his mother, also had some news to tell him. News about his mother’s health, or lack there of. 

He hasn’t eaten Swedish fish since.

“Dad?” 

“Yeah?” He held up the candy. His dad looked away. Maybe he didn’t realize the specific connection Stiles had made, but the purchase did have meaning, Stiles could see it in his father’s shoulders.

“Isn’t that your favorite?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Why does something have to be wrong?” Stiles just shook the bag. He held onto his patience; he’ll lose it if he speaks. 

“I just... okay so... it’s like this...” Clearly, his dad hadn’t been spending the whole day thinking of how to tell his son exactly what he wanted to say. “Well, good news, well maybe not so good for you... I got a promotion.” Stiles wasn’t aware one could be promoted from the title of town sheriff. Bit of a top tier job. Stiles finally sat down, but he still gripped the box of candy tightly.

“That’s... good.”

“I think so too. And it’s more than just a promotion, it’s an entire new job offer. Head of a police task force, in fact. It’s really a promotion if you add in all the new responsibilities and the amount of people I’ll be in charge of. Even the pay will be more. It doesn’t start for another three months, but they... they need my decision in four days.” By the end of his speech, his dad’s face was bright red. So that’s where Stiles gets it from. 

Stiles found the catch. The reason for the Swedish fish. So he asked, “And where is this fantastic new job?”

“Saratoga.”

“Is that the name of a street in a town located right next to Beacon Hills?”

“Saratoga, Massachusetts.”

“Is that the whole name of a town located right next-”

“Stiles.” Who, the fuck, knows his dad in Massachusetts? Massachusetts. Moving. But home, school, Scott! Scott needed him. Oh god, it was hard enough worrying about the guy while Stiles was still able to physically make sure he was okay, but across the country, and he only has four days to decide, that’s too soon, that’s, oh god, oh god- “All right now, calm down. Listen to me. Hold your breath. That’s right, hold it. Hold it. Now let it out slowly. That’s right, deep breaths, concentrate on your breathing.” his dad was saying as he helped him through his panic attack. Even as his breathing returned to normal, he still rubbed circles into his son’s back as he added, “I guess I don’t have to ask you how you feel about it.” 

Stiles was still too surprised by the news, and his physical reaction to it, to voice a reply. 

 

Scott was surprised that he wasn’t grounded. Though, he was told he was to stay in his room and not come out until he had finished homework to show his mother. It could be seen as a grounding, but with a task involved. As soon as his mom left the room, Scott put on his shoes. He didn’t care if this was the opposite of what Peter had “advised” him to do. He needed to get to Isaac. The boy could be in another state already. He quickly sniffed his bed, inhaling all the areas where Isaac’s scent lingered. He was pleased to find it near his pillows. He liked the thought of Isaac laying on his bed, waiting for him.

And he really didn’t have time to explore the naughty implications of that thought. Focus, Wolf. He quietly left his room via his window, making sure to jump to the side of his house in case his mom looked out any of the front windows at the same moment. 

He followed his nose to Hale House. Well, he had wanted to go there anyway.

He also should have figured Isaac would be there. He couldn’t see Isaac going around town saying goodbye to people. Maybe he’ll stop by Jackson’s later. That dark thought left when Isaac appeared on the porch with his backpack slung on one arm. He made his way down the steps without glancing up. He was either really deep in thought or he just didn’t like to look where he was going.

It was now or never.

“Isaac!” He hadn’t meant to sound angry, but yelling, in general, tends to have that effect. Isaac stopped mid step and looked over. He didn’t move as Scott approached him. 

“Scott, what are you doing here?” Here he goes.

“I-” wait... what if he was about to do something really stupid? He doesn’t know how Isaac feels. For all he knows, this could seem and sound really creepy or stalker-ish. There had to be a way to say it without actually saying it first. “What am I to you?”

“Excuse me?”

“How do you feel about me?” Isaac looked away. His heart doubled a beat. Good reaction? Bad? This was favoring the creepy theory. Well, can’t go back now. 

“Why are you asking this now?”

“Because you’re leaving now.” A long, agonizing silence. 

Then, “I feel.. a lot of things, mostly good things... about you.” Okay, Scotty, you got your answer, now where do you go from here? 

“That’s good... look, I just... don’t go.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because I like you.” There. It’s out.

“Okay, thanks... I like you too... a lot... but that doesn’t change my situation. I don’t feel safe here.” Something was off with Isaac’s confession. Though he had heard Isaac’s heart speed up, he wasn’t lying, it was something else. 

“I can make you feel safe” that was creepy. “I can keep you safe” not much better. Move on “... And I don’t think you understood me. I like... like like you, you know...” Isaac’s eyes became huge, which is quite the feat because they are large to begin with. He got it now. 

“Oh. You... really? Me? I-”

“I know I know, you’re with Jackson, but-”

“But you like Allison?”

“I did.”

“I did too, with Jackson, I mean.”

“And now?” Isaac had a much better way of expressing how he felt than Scott’s flop of a confession. He simply stepped closer to Scott, leaned his head down, and in, and slowly pressed their lips together. Then he leaned back. That did it. All of Scott’s feelings, all the waiting, wondering, wanting, it all came to the surface. Later, he would say it was due to teenage hormones, or even his wolf wanting him to act on another primal drive. But really, the reason he pounced on Isaac, causing them to fall to the ground together, was because the man was just so damn kissable. It made Scott want more.

They kissed. And kissed. And kissed some more. Their lips and tongues met time and again. They let out little laughs and sounds of surprise and delight when a kiss moved higher or lower or deeper. They made sounds of approval. Scott approved of the way Isaac tugged on his hair to bring him closer. Isaac approved of the way Scott’s hands had made their way to Isaac’s hips. Scott’s mouth briefly left Isaac's face. His gaze moved southward, he glanced back up to Isaac, one hand on Isaac’s hip inched inward, his intention clear.

“Have you ever done that before?” Isaac breathed out.

“Hundreds of times.”

“We’re not talking about the same thing, are we?” Okay, so maybe his intention wasn’t clear.

“I was... with my hand...”

“Oh, hand... uh... yeah, sure, if you want to.”

Scott’s hand gave Isaac’s hip a little squeeze as he said, “I want to.”. Isaac’s eyes flashed yellow. Before Scott could think to stop it, Isaac used his enhanced strength and agility to quickly turn them over so he was now on top of Scott.

With his eyes still the color of the sun, he cheekily whispered, “Me first.” Isaac moved down to his waist and pressed his face against the growing stiffness in Scott’s pants. Scott gasped. It felt so fantastically right. Excitement flooded his system. Shit, this will be good.

“Jesus.” That wasn’t the voice of Scott. That wasn’t the voice of Isaac. “You mind taking your little display of affection elsewhere, like not my front yard.” It was the voice of Derek Hale. “Teenagers.” he muttered. The boys stood up as quickly as they were able to. Scott stood a little in front of Isaac, between him and Derek. That’s right, he’s Scott’s Isaac now, better recognize. “Does this mean you’re staying, Isaac? Or have you chosen to join Scott’s pack-” Scott’s pack, Scott says he choses Scott’s pack.

“Can I do that?” is what Isaac said.

“Technically, yes, but I don’t advise it, he’s not even an Alpha, and-” Whatever Derek was going to say was cut off by a loud, desperate call for assistance, a howl for help that came from the direction of the woods. It put an end to Scott’s internal victory dance.

“Who?” Asked Isaac.

“Erica.” answered a red eyed Derek.

Erica, had indeed, howled for her Alpha. She hadn’t wanted to, but she also felt like she wouldn’t be able to escape on her own. Not when she had lost sight of Boyd, and not with one of Danny’s arrows currently embedded in her leg. Not with Danny a few feet away, reloading.


	8. Alpha Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's see. There's a fight in the woods. Lots of talking. Brief nudity. And some death threats. 
> 
> And the Alpha Pack... like you've never seen them before (hopefully).

Derek was already at the edge of the woods by the time Erica howled for a second time. Scott glanced at Isaac, or in the space he used to occupy at least. He scanned the area and spotted Isaac quickly heading in the same direction Derek had gone. And yes, Derek was now gone. Scott preferred to use his eyes to follow along, especially since the woods surrounding Hale House were soaked in all of the wolves’ scents. 

Scott followed Isaac as fast as he could. As he did, he heard more howling. He didn't need to know what Erica sounded like to know that wasn’t her, nor was the howl after that Erica, and that one was different from the first. Just what, the hell, was going on? Isaac quickly veered right and, his nose said Derek’s scent was still strongest going forward. His wolf told him to follow Isaac. 

His wolf failed to tell him when to stop in order to avoid running into Isaac’s back. They fell. It hurt.

“Isaac? Is that you?” A voice from somewhere nearby whispered. Boyd. A scared Boyd. Isaac growled and was on his feet again. He pulled Scott up as well. He headed for the voice and Scott followed. A few paces away was a strung up Boyd. His hands were tied together as he hung like a caught fish on a hook a few feet off of the ground. Isaac moved forward, circling Boyd, trying to find a way to get him down, and reassuming him that he would be free soon. Since Scott wasn’t absorbed in helping Boyd, or at least, his part in the rescue involved looking around to where the anchored end of the trap was, he was able to spot the movement to his right. He was able to see the arrow fly, but he wasn’t able to react properly to it. All he could do was watch as it embedded itself in Isaac’s leg. 

 

Derek reached Erica as Danny prepared to fire his third arrow but didn’t shoot. Another hunter, some older male who usually accompanied the Argents on hunts such as this, stepped up beside him and held up his gun. 

“Good catch.” his said to Danny. “But we’re not here to catch them, are we.” Danny shook his head. All his shots have been purposely nonfatal. Though he wanted to destroy the type of monsters who were responsible for turning his friend into a fiendish murderer, he couldn’t actually bring himself to kill Erica Reyes, a girl, his classmate, who was looking more helpless and non threatening by the second as she stared up at them. 

The other, older hunter had no such problem as he pointed his gun at Erica. Both hunters heard the growl from behind, but only the older hunter felt its source. Claws dug into his back as he was raised into the air and then thrown forwards. Danny jumped back, dropping his weapon as Derek, bloody claws by his sides, stepped towards him. Derek wouldn’t attack an unarmed hunter, would he?

“Derek.” And that is when another one approached, not a hunter, another wolf. It came from somewhere near Erica’s right. It was a full grown wolf and Erica could tell it wasn’t Peter, the only fully shifted wolf she has ever seen. Her Derek stopped advancing towards Danny, who was wise enough to run away shortly after the new wolf appeared. New wolf went straight for the already wounded and on the ground Erica. She screamed as he or she dug his or her claws into her shoulder. Her Derek ran full speed at the stranger, his teeth bared. 

 

Allison came into view as she aimed another arrow at Isaac, but she froze completely as, not one, but two new wolves approached from behind the two boys. Then all she saw was a blur of red and black quickly coming towards her. She raised her arms up and closed her eyes, bracing for the impact. It was an impact that never came. 

Scott’s human side wanted to run away the second the wolves appeared, but his wolf side roared to stay. To fight. To protect. Scott was running towards Isaac, which put him in the perfect position to side tackle the wolf that had been heading towards Allison. Two birds, meet stone. This wolf was probably twice the size of Scott even in human form, but he was still able to knock the guy down the to ground, if only temporally. This giant was already getting back on all fours when the second wolf leapt at Scott. 

Scott felt claws repeatedly tear into his back; he screamed. 

 

Derek was tackled before he was able to reach his fallen Beta. From the ground, he watched the wolf that had struck her, carry her off deeper into the woods. The wolf that had tackled him was smaller than the one that had wolfnapped Erica. This did not make the chunks of skin she was ripping off of his arms and at the sides of his torso any less painful. Pain surged from his neck, down, as teeth pierced the skin there. She was going to bite his head off. There was a high pitched howl was heard nearby by, a new, other wolf, not of his pack, this one was also female. 

So, correction, _they_ were going to bite his head off. Where the hell was his uncle?

 

Peter Hale made it to his Beta in time to see him getting viciously played with by some stranger wolf. A fully recovered Isaac jumped on the wolf’s back, only to be redirected and flung against a tree. It gave Scott a moment and a chance to roll over and kick out, forcing the red eyed wolf back. However, the pain from his wounds had shifted him back into human form, making him completely defenseless once the wolf returned to all fours and growled at him. Another growl answered. Peter’s. 

ALPHA. The wolf turned (which can take slightly longer with four legs), as Peter came into view. Scott saw his former Alpha shift. It was terrifyingly amazing. Unfortunately, the end result, his true form, didn’t look bigger than the stranger wolf. That didn’t dissuade the Hale Alpha as he roared and moved forward. While the wolves fought, Scott looked around and quickly spotted Isaac on the ground. However, he was only able to take a few steps before dizziness overwhelmed him. Everything still hurt, and for whatever reason, he wasn’t healing. It meant he was still injured. It meant he was still bleeding from multiple places. It was frightening to feel this weak and disoriented, knowing there was danger so close by and friends that needed help. His wolf forced one more step in Isaac’s direction before his human legs buckled and he fumbled to the ground again.

 

 

The females fought each other as Derek limped away from the scene. He needed to find and rescue Erica. He needed to locate the rest of his pack too. The situation had gotten too dangerous, there were too many unknown wolves and known hunters for any of his young pack to face on their own. He needed to find his pack and get them to safety.

He needed to watch where he was quickly limping. 

Derek didn’t see the root. So, it was quite the surprise for him when his good leg tripped over it and he went tumbling forward. It was just his rotten luck that he had been walking or hobbling on the top of a hill and was now rolling down it. It was just life kicking his ass, or in this case, head, when the side of his head hit a rock before his body came to a stop. Therefore, he hadn’t even noticed that he had come to a stop on the edge of a small lake, one that, if he had stopped on his stomach, he would have drowned in. For now, he was simply laying unconscious, ear deep, in water. This is the life of Derek Hale.

 

 

Peter was able to break one of the stranger Alpha’s legs. This caused him to retreat. If his instincts didn’t put his pack first, Peter would have followed the enemy. Instead, he joined Isaac by the prone body of his Beta. It didn’t matter that his Beta had chosen to leave him. At this point, he needed and was glad to see that the teen wolf Isaac turned over was still breathing. He also liked the amount of worry and affection he was getting off of Isaac. It made his next actions easier to choose and follow through with. He told Isaac to take Scott home, to Scott’s home. Certain rituals needed to be done around the Hale House before that place would be safe from any of the wolves that-

“But what about Boyd?” Was Isaac’s response to his command. 

“What about Boyd?” He had only heard the sound of Erica and many other wolves before he entered the woods. Isaac then told him of how Boyd had been found, and they both could now see that there was no Boyd hanging from a rope, and no other wolf, in the spot where Isaac and Scott had seen them. Yet, he could see and hear the Argent daughter nearby, she was whispering words of concern and of retreat to her friends. The battle was over. It was time to gather the wounded and head back to camp, or in this case, to the respective homes of the soldiers. 

Once Isaac and Scott were gone, Peter took off in the direction of his nephew’s scent. It led him to a clearing and a small trial of blood and down a hill. He stopped beside Derek’s body. And for a moment, he hesitated. He wondered. What should he, could he, would he do? Here lay his nephew, the guy who had recently tried to kill him and obtain his status and power (and some pesky, little revenge for his sister, blah blah). Would it be wise to save him now? Or to just leave him to continue to bleed out into the lake here, where he may or may not survive? Oh! Such tough choices with equal appeal.

Another round of howls from the wolves that had attacked tonight, a signal as they tried to locate each other, forced Peter to take a hold of his nephew’s arms and drag him out of the lake. The guy may be a murderous Alpha, but he was the only Alpha on his side (for the most part) and if tonight was an indication of things to come, Peter was going to need all the help he could get. 

 

 

Scott was healing, but very slowly. Isaac carried him all the way to his house. Luckily, Scott’s Mom didn't appear to be home. It was even more lucky that the front door was unlocked, though the second fortune made more sense as Isaac climbed up the stairs with Scott. There was another person here. He figured it was Stiles even though he couldn’t place the smell of chocolate with a face. 

Stiles was in the middle of pacing the room when Isaac entered. 

“Dude, where have- what happened?” Scott woke up as Isaac placed him on his bed. Stiles’s hands hovered over his friend’s body, not knowing where it was safe to touch; there was blood everywhere. He spun on Isaac. “What happened? Who did this? Was it Peter?”

“Why would Peter hurt Scott?”

“It-” Began Scott.

“Because Scott left his pack.”

“What? But a wolf can’t, an Omega can’t survive on his own.”

“Yeah, especially when their former Alpha tries to kill them, right!” Stiles argued.

“No, it-” Scott tried again.

“It wasn’t his Alpha!” Isaac barked back. Stiles was then reminded that he was talking to a wolf person when Isaac’s eyes shifted briefly. “There was an Alpha though... two of them.” 

“Two, as in ones that aren’t Derek or Peter?” Isaac nodded.

“Scott can tell you all about it. I have to go find my Derek and Erica and Boyd.” Isaac walked toward the window as he said it, it’s the faster way to exit. 

“Wait.” Finally Scott was listened to. “Are you okay?” He asked Isaac.

“Huh?”

“Are you hurt?” Isaac moved back over to Scott until their foreheads were touching. 

“No, you foolish man, now just stay here and rest... I’ll... come back soon.” Scott nodded solemnly. Isaac straightened up and then headed towards Scott’s window again. Neither Scott nor his wolf liked it.

“Let the record show that I would go with you, to help, but I really need to talk to Scott.” Stiles added. 

“Doesn’t matter, Scott wouldn’t let you come anyway, too dangerous.” Was Isaac’s response. 

“Damn right.” Scott agreed. Stiles watched Isaac leave and then he turned his attention back to his best friend. Even if he was an idiot, he would be able to tell that the relationship between those two had evolved. About frickin’ time.

“You two are super cute.” He observed.

“Shut up.”

“Be sure to use protection. Actually, since he was with Jackson, you might want to double up.”

“Now you really need to shut up.”

“Right, you probably don’t want to hear about or think about, well fine... why don’t you tell me what happened tonight. Two Alphas? Is that even your blood?”

“Yeah, and, actually, can you help me to the bathroom, I don’t want anything to get infected.” Stiles gladly helped his friend. And he dreaded the moment when Scott said, “So what did you need to talk about?” and he wished he hadn’t had said that to Isaac. Now was not the right time, Then again, he really didn’t have a lot of time to find the right time. 

“It’s nothing.” He said anyway as he cut strips of gauze. “Well, not... how many Alphas? What started the fight?”

“I only saw two, but Erica’s the one that called for help and we didn’t even find her.” 

“Are the Alphas still out there... or?” In a wolf eat wolf world, would he be okay with the thought of Scott killing someone, even a wolf person who was trying to kill him? Stiles pushed that thought aside with all the other crap he had been fed tonight. He was due for a mental breakdown soon, if he didn’t start processing the load. 

“I don’t know.” Scott looked out the window. Though he knew he was still very injured, knowing Peter and Derek were still out there, made him want to, need to, go. “I need to-”

“If you say “go”, I swear to God, Scott, I’ll knock you out myself. Actually, I know exactly how to make you stay here... Scott, buddy... I’m moving.” Scott did sit back down on the bed. He waited a few moments for Stiles to elaborate. As the seconds passed, it became clear that neither of them wanted to start, to have, this conversation. That would make it real. 

 

It was surreal for Isaac as he made his way back to the woods surrounding Hale House. He was petrified, frightened by the thought that the Alphas were still close, were waiting, could see him, were preparing to strike. He knew he couldn’t outrun them. He knew he couldn’t fight them. He now knew his instincts had caused him to do something quite foolish and it would be his own fault if he died tonight. Maybe Scott knew what he was doing with that whole “Omega” thing. At least he didn’t have the compulsion to go galavanting to his own death in the search for his much needed pack. Or to even feel need for the guy who had decided to randomly attack him one night. 

There was no time to go down memory lane and evaluate his life choices, the smell of his Derek and Peter were growing stronger and it made Isaac move faster and breathe easier. He almost collapsed in relief when they came into view. But then he actually took in the view. Peter (a naked one at that, had he been naked before? He was so focused on Scott he must not have noticed) was carrying a limp limbed Derek. Isaac was filled with a different kind of fright.

 

As scary as the “m” word had been, Scott gave in first, “Where?” Stiles sat down beside him on the bed. He would normally take the computer chair, but he just couldn’t look at Scott, have Scott looking directly at him, as he spit the answer out.

“Massachusetts.”

“The state!”

“Well I might not, my dad’s got four days to give an answer.” Scott exhaled loudly. 

“Great, just have him say, no thanks. You really want to have to change schools in the middle of your high school career... oh hey. HEY, you could live here, with me.”

“I’m not leaving my dad, Scott.”

“Right, sorry, bad idea. Well, you can still-”

“I don’t think I want to.”

‘You _want_ to move?”

“No, but this is a really good job opportunity for him. And it would get him away from here, away from the memories, you know. I just want him to be happy. I need him to be.” Scott wanted to ask “But what about me” but he knew he couldn’t win against the “dad” card. Not when he also wanted to see Mr. Stilinski happy. 

 

His Derek did not look happy when he woke up. Then again, he never looked happy, so Isaac wasn’t sure what his current, true disposition was. He could be in pain, confused and waiting for an explanation, currently sniffing out the rest of their pack, following a dust bunny with his eyes, who knows really.

“Are you okay?” He asked his alpha. His Derek stood up without faltering. He then took Isaac by the arm, and without looking at him, pulled him closer. 

“Go downstairs. Call Scott. Tell him the Alphas are here. Stay down there.”

“They’re here?”

“Quiet. Go.” He then pushed Isaac out into the hallway in the direction of the staircase. Alphas were on their way to Hale House. Or they already were here and he needed to get from the second floor to the basement. His Derek was behind him. His eyes widened, urging Isaac to hurry. He did. 

 

Stiles felt the urge to change the subject. 

“Oh hey, since I might be, you know, I brought all my research over. All the stuff I’ve found on werewolves and every lizard type creature I could find, which was really just a list of revenge seeking snakelike mythical creatures.” Stiles got up and headed over to the backpack he brought with him. He started to unload fat files and stacks of paper clipped papers. “I figured the lizard stuff might come in handy if something like that happens again, and the werewolf stuff, well, take this, for example” He held up a plastic bag of what looked to Scott like soot. “It’s called mountain ash and it has the power to repel werewolves, like it sets up whole invisible walls or force fields and everything. And I found out that other animals can be mutated by the blood or salvia of a werewolf. Like, actual cross species spreading.”

“Well, a wolf people is two species in one, so you can’t be that surprised.” Scott mused, though he really wanted to turn the conversation back to the part where it sounded like his best friend was saying goodbye, so he could change it. 

“Yeah, but I’m talking, like, were-dogs and were-hamsters here.”

“Wolf, not “were”.”

“Yeah, like “wolf hamster” will catch on. But could you imagine a little turtle, with fangs, howling at the moon.”

“We don’t howl at the moon!” Scott’s eyes flashed. Stiles stepped back from the bed and he held his hands up.

“Okay, okay, sorry, wasn’t trying to-”

“Make me mad? Then you shouldn’t be leaving. You can’t leave. You. Are. My. Pack.” If Scott had said that in his normal voice, Stiles may have felt touched. But with the wolf undertones it just sounded possessive and intimidating as hell. 

“I’m your what now? Scott? Buddy?” Scott’s eyes returned to normal.

“I’m... sorry... I don’t know why I said that. But... I do mean some of it. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Well of course you don’t, Man, and I don’t want to leave.”

“Please don’t leave, I can’t do this on my own.” GAHHH. It was the one phrase Stiles had been trying to avoid since the conversation began. Maybe even since his dad first made the announcement. 

“And... I agree completely, but... you’re not alone. You have your mom, and, and Isaac. And though you still shouldn’t trust him completely, I don’t think Derek will try to kill you. And there’s Erica. And Boyd will probably have his nice moments now that you’re part of the same EH minority.”

“Peter said Derek won’t want me around his pack. Omegas can’t be around packs.”

“I didn’t read that anywhere. Besides, this is me you’re talking to, you’re really telling me you plan to stay away from Isaac? I’m no wolf, but even I could smell the pheromones.”

“I don’t know, but I can figure all that out later. For now, can we please just focus on you and me?” But if they do that, Stiles’s resolve, already barely pasted together with thoughts of a happy father and a peaceful life, will crumble.

Shortly after he said the word “me”, Scott’s phone rang. He was about to put it on silent, but he happened to glance at the number. Isaac. If he’s calling from the woods... Scott answered. Isaac quickly relayed Derek message, though he sounded so far away that his voice kept breaking up, like he was walking through a tunnel. Scott still got the gist of it and he told Isaac he was on his way. He ended the call.

“What’s wrong?”

“The Alphas that attacked tonight are now at Hale House.” Their teen aged minds shifted gears and switched genres, from drama to action, as they got into Stiles’s car. There hadn’t even been a discussion on whether Stiles was going or not. There didn’t need to be. 

Scott examined the world all around the vehicle as they went, and he kept his nose in the air. Whatever happened next, they wouldn’t be caught off guard. Isaac had directed them to go to a certain clearing in the woods, to follow his scent to a spot near Hale House (not at the house). Scott was relieved by the idea; he would not be looking forward to seeing those stranger Alphas again. It also gave him time to think. Things couldn't be that bad if Isaac was able to call him. And even better, Peter must have been lying about Derek if Derek had actually asked him to come, to be around his pack, to be around “his” Isaac. 

It is confirmed; Peter is evil.

Scott’s nose led him to a small hill within the woods. It was here that he saw a zip hoodie hanging on a low branch. As they neared it, Scott became nervous again at the sight of only a piece of Isaac. His nerves disappeared as Isaac’s head appeared from a leaf covered latch door in the ground at the bottom of the hill. The two locked eyes and Isaac silently told him to follow. He also silently questioned why Stiles was there. 

“I’m part of his pack.” Stiles explained as he gestured to Scott. Isaac sniffed the air and he still only got the human scents off of Stiles, none of the dirt and wet fur to back up Stiles’s statement. He could also smell Scott’s blood; the scratches on his back weren’t completely healed. 

“Kay, whatever,” They were now standing in a dark tunnel where they could barely see each other.   
Isaac turned back to Scott. “I know you said you’re not a part of Peter’s pack anymore, and you’re still hurt, but these wolves...”

“I know, and besides, I’m not here because of Peter.” Small, understanding smiles were exchanged. Scott’s statement wasn’t entirely true. Peter had saved him back in the woods, he should at least try and return the favor if another fight was really happening. Damn hero complex.

“This is a beautiful moment, guys, really, but can we please stay focused on the powerful wolves you are about to go fight while I’ll shout encouraging words towards you.” Stiles interjected.

“We’re not fighting.” Isaac said plainly, as if that had been clear during his rushed phone call with Scott. 

“What?” It hadn’t been clear to Scott.

“Derek told me to call you and to stay down here. That’s what we’re doing.”

“I’m sure he meant for us to go upstairs, to fight once-”

“No, he said to stay down here. Erica and Boyd are already lost, he won’t risk us getting hurt to.”

“What do you mean “lost”?” Stiles interrupted. Scott had only mentioned his own attack during the ride over here.

“As in, they weren’t found...” Isaac had no idea what had been so confusing about what he had just said.

“So we’re hiding? For how long?” Scott brought the attention back to him. 

“I don’t know.”

“I do.” A new, deeper voice said from the darkness. Stiles and Isaac subconsciously took a step closer to Scott. Scott could only stare into the darkness. 

 

Derek Hale stared into the darkness of the night with eyes that could see everything clearly. The smell of the others was getting stronger by the second. He wouldn’t be taken by surprise. He wouldn’t be taken at all, even if he was still feeling a bit light headed. Though he didn’t know what this pack wanted, he knew he wouldn’t have seen Erica get carried alive if they had wanted to kill them all. And whatever they did want, he wouldn’t give it up without a fight. 

Someone was behind him. He turned, teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing red at the intruder.

“I heard there were no longer any wolves in Beacon Hills.” His eyes narrowed, as if that would help him see better. It didn’t. “You shouldn’t be here. This house belongs to the Hales.” Despite his earlier conviction, he was caught off guard, but quickly recovered as the intruder stepped forward.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing that I’m a Hale. Who are you?” Derek didn’t understand how someone could know his house but not know him.

“Then I wasn’t deceived. You know, if my wolf hadn’t recognized you, Kali would have ripped you apart. So tell me,” The intruder finally stepped out of the darkness of the house and into Derek’s sight. It was only then when he realized how familiar she sounded, how familiar she smelled, and now how familiar she looked. His wolf screamed one, elated word: FAMILY. “So,” he began as casually as he could, “Which one of my surviving relatives are you?”

“I think that question is best put by us to you, stranger.” Peter said as he come up behind the intruder. Derek couldn’t relax at the sight of his uncle, not when he was joined by three more strangers. Derek couldn’t believe his Uncle Peter was still putting up a tough, composed attitude when they were clearly outnumbered by these stranger wolves, these other Alphas. They were doomed.

 

They were fucked. Scott felt it as this large, looming, monstrosity of a man approached them. He smelled of dirt and wet fur. He smelled of Scott’s blood. He was the enhanced human who had sliced his still aching back multiple times. The way Isaac was heavily breathing told him that his fellow wolf had recognized their attacker as well. 

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you. Come with me.” Hell no.

“You’ll have to forgive us for not believing you, given what you did to me.” Scott placed his hand on the small of Isaac’s back. He felt that if he didn’t, Isaac would do something stupid, like attack this man. He couldn’t have them fighting, to have them be in a position where he may have to fight and protect Stiles at the same time. Maybe if they were facing another, smaller Alpha, in a much wider space, they’d have a chance. As it was, the wolf man’s presence was enough to keep him from making any large movements, let alone, be able to strike. 

“I apologize as well, it was not our original intention to attack anyone today. It is hard to tell friend from foe when the wolf takes over. I also apologize for making it sound like I was making a request instead of a demand.” A thousand thoughts went through Scott’s mind: a full reply of the attack, questions around the word “our”, the other one may be in here, or there could be more than two. And the golden question, what happened if they don’t follow his demand, or worse, what happens if they do? 

Well, he was about to find out as the stranger smiled a sinister smile and quickly came towards them. Not gonna lie, Scott closed his eyes, expecting an attack. Even his wolf was afraid, screaming words like SUBMIT, RUN, and PROTECT PACK. Though he wasn’t sure in which order he was suppose to act or how to do any of that. His feet couldn’t even run. At least, they couldn’t until the stranger, having grabbed Stiles, started running the same way the boys had come. PACK! BETA! Scott pulled Isaac’s arm to ensure the other came with him as they ran after the wolf man and the now screaming Stiles. 

 

Derek may have heard the screams first, since he was still trying to listen for any sign of his pack, even while being confronted by the Alpha pack. And they were a pack of Alphas, this much was clear now. Just like it was clear that the one currently speaking to his uncle, was the leader. He also recognized the screams belonging to Stiles. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. What, the hell, was that kid doing here? He also wanted to go help, but he couldn’t just abandoned Uncle Peter. He was also beginning to smell traces of Erica and Boyd. The screams were also coming closer, as were Scott and Isaac. So, it was really best that he stayed put.

“Peter?” Peter’s eyes narrowed. A pause, he could practically see his uncle thinking, trying to recall. He had always wondered just how much damage the fire... and his own murder attempt, had done to Uncle Peter’s memory... and his personality, his conscious, his sense of morality, his sense of loyalty, his desire for justice slash revenge, just to name a few. “Peter, I will be thoroughly disappointed if you don’t recognize me. You only lectured me every single day to and from school. We only shared a room together.”

“M-Margret?”

“Margret?” Derek echoed. “Margret Hale? But didn’t you die?”

“Didn’t you?” Was her response.

“Touché.” Peter answered. The conversation and entire tone of the scene was broken up by the ruckus around the house as somebody leaped onto the porch with a noisy Stiles in tow. 

“...And they helped take out a whole house of hunters and this crazed lizard monster that resided inside it, so you really couldn’t have picked the worst human to pick on, I run with, AH-” The wolf man entered the house and tossed Stiles to the floor in front of him. Derek hurried in after him and the others quickly followed.

“I found two other Betas and a simple human.” The one who tossed Stiles said. 

“I don’t see the Betas.” One of the others, who looked exactly like the first man, must be twins, expect more muscular, said. Right after he said it, his twin stepped aside and held out his arm, displaying the doorway as Scott and Isaac rushed through it. They halted at the sight of the gathering crowd. Some had yet to enter the house. Scott then went over to Stiles and helped his best friend up. Isaac moved to stand near his Derek. He was also glad to see all the Alphas had clothes on. Naked Peter had been enough.

“Splendid, Aidan, go get the runaways.” The beefy one, who had asked the last question, nodded in acceptance and walked out of the room, towards the back of the house. “Once the others join us, we’ll begin with proper introductions”. The one claiming to be Margret Hale said.

Proper introductions were indeed given after Erica and Boyd were brought into the house. They looked scared, but otherwise unharmed. Derek and Scott simultaneously wondered why they were the only ones to sustain injuries. It was all explained after introductions.

First off, Margret Hale stilled claimed to be a Hale, a cousin of Peter’s, in fact. The other lady in the room, who Scott hadn’t even noticed, and Derek’s nose recognized as the one who attacked him last, was named Kali. The other three also weren’t supplied last names, and went by Ennis, an older gentleman who looked to be Peter’s age, and the twins, beefy and bulky Aidan and the smaller, well spoken Ethan, who was also the one who grabbed Stiles and was the reason behind Scott’s currently healing injuries. The fact that there was a larger, meaner looking version of him in existence only made Scott more uneasy. At this point, even Stiles could taste the tension in the room. 

After names where shared, it was quickly explained, what Ethan had already alluded to earlier, that the Alpha pack hadn’t come to town looking for a fight, but when they saw Erica and Boyd strung up in the woods and then the hunters came, their natural instincts took over. Instincts that had also seen the Beacon Hills wolves as threats. By now, people were more or less leaning against various walls or standing with their arms crossed. 

Margret bluntly stated, “Now to get right to it, I’m actually not all that surprised to see some of my family members alive and thriving here. Not when I heard that their names have been all over the news. To make matters worse, when we do get here, there is the hunter attack. And after we rescue the young Beta, and really, Boys, teenagers? You really think it’s wise to combine the heightened emotions of adolescence, the impulsive behavior, with wolf-like drives? They are children.” She looked from Derek to Peter. Both wouldn’t meet her gaze. It was quite incredible really. Margret wasn’t petit by any means, but she was smaller than the men around her, and, in Scott’s opinion, she looked really pale, malnourished even, and as if she hadn’t bathed in months. And yet, the entire room was intimidated by her. 

“I thought, when you said you would “get right to it” you meant you would tell us what brought you here, my dear cousin.” Peter said as he continued to inch his way away from the other Alphas and closer to the Beacon Hills wolves. Or some of them, people were thoroughly scattered and bunched. Kali, for instance, had settled near Derek in the corner of the entrance room. Derek had his hand on the shoulder of Isaac, who was holding the hand of Erica, who, in turn, pressed herself into him, mainly to be further away from Aidan, who was s standing behind and uncomfortably close to her. Boyd hovered nearby. He obviously wanted to be near his pack, but he was still fearful of the Alphas nearby. It was a crowded corner. 

“Very well. We are here to restore order. To find and assign an Alpha to the wolves here in Beacon Hills, since the Alphas currently in place have been... ineffective.”

“That would be a matter of opinion.” Peter was in the middle of the room now, with Scott and Stiles. Though they were in the center, with the way the conversation had been going, they might as well have been part of the floorboards. Scott also hated to admit it, but he did feel a bit more relaxed, a smidgen better, to have Peter close to him. 

“An opinion that has been strengthened with the knowledge that three out of the four wolves made here have chosen to leave their Alphas and subsequent packs.” 

“It’s four.” It was the first time Scott had spoken since he had entered the room. And even now, he wasn’t sure why he had felt the need to. Really, he was surprised Stiles has been so silent so far. Margret looked his way.

“Even worse, four for four. So naturally, a rearrangement is in order. Aidan, step away from the child.” She suddenly, sternly directed at the wolf person still behind Erica. At first, Scott didn’t think he was going to do it, but then Aidan did step away from Erica and occupied the empty corner on the other side of the room. Erica was visibly relieved. Boyd took up the space where Aidan had been. They made a good pack... if not for still having an “ineffective leader”.

“So...” Scott having spoken, gave Stiles the courage to. “What does that mean? Say you pick Boyd to be the new Alpha, and then what?”

“Good question, Stanley-” Margret praised.

“Stiles.”

“Whatever, once chosen, all the other wolves of Beacon Hills will submit to him,” She smiled at Erica. “Or her. If any of you fail to do this, to submit to the Alpha,” She locked eyes with each wolf in the room, and Scott noticed some of the other Alphas breaking out into grins. “We. Will. Kill You.” Her gaze landed on Stiles. “Questions, comments?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi.   
> Had had this whole bit typed out explaining a bunch of stuff. But then I realized the “too long/didn’t read” at the end worked just fine. So:
> 
> Fic plotted before season 3 started. About a year ago. Some stuff (Alpha pack mentioned at the end of season 2) still there, as you just read. No Deucalion.   
> Downside to this: we got an original character and some out of character behavior coming. Apologies.  
> Upside to this: original plots and character arcs = surprises galore.
> 
> Everybody get that?  
> I just wanted to explain things like why story Kali will be acting nothing like show Kali. I knew nothing about her character when I wrote her in (I named her Jessica at first). I only knew there would be a female. I decided to make two females (artistic liberty, etc.) Even now, I don’t know how or where in this story Kali from the TV show would fit (she didn’t have much of a personality). Hopefully, you won’t mind my version of her. Or any of them.
> 
> That’s it. Have a good day.


	9. New Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New day. Scott gets some kisses. Isaac gets some cookies. Jackson gets some angst. And someone dies.

Stiles didn’t arrive at his house until 5:30 A.M. He couldn’t believe that just hours earlier his only concern was how to tell Scott he may be moving. In the worst case scenario, at the time, his best friend may have had to fight off an enraged Allison Argent. He had thought there would be a chance, a likelihood, that he would and could leave all this werewolf drama behind him (and still keeping in touch with Scott, of course).

He had been an idealistic fool. Scott, his best friend, was a wolf person. He was permanently associated to drama of epic proportions. There was absolutely no way he could leave Scott to face, not only a family of hunters, but a whole pack of ferocious, slightly pedophiliac, wolf people. Then again, he thought as he made his way to his door, he also knew there wasn’t much he could actually do to help Scott out with any of it. He couldn’t protect him from the Alphas. And his vote for Scott for head Alpha of Beacon Hills wouldn’t mean anything to that group. And Derek had made it pretty clear that Stiles wasn’t to show his face at Hale House again when he had said, “I don’t want to see your face around here ever again.” back when Stiles and Scott had headed back to his jeep. 

So in the end, he was still left with the selfish reasons to stay to sate his own morbid curiosity when it came to wolf people and because of a love for a friend. But was it enough or better than what his father wanted or needed? 

“Stiles?” Thoughts of needs and friends, and mostly werewolves who refuse to refer to themselves as such, did not prepare Stiles to see his father so soon this morning. In fact, it made him jumpy as all hell. 

“Geez, Dad, what are you doing up?”

“Waiting for my son to come home. Where were you?”

“Ah...”God, his brain was so stretched in thought and drenched in emotion that he couldn’t even come up with a decent lie. “I was... with Scott.” 

“You were at Scott’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Stiles, I’m trying really hard to not get angry right now, so please don’t lie to me.” His dad doesn’t believe he was at Scott’s. He knows otherwise. It’s Scott’s mom. Well played parents. Well played. He would have foreseen that if he hadn’t just gone through a werewolf inquisition. 

“I was at Scott’s, at first, but then we left... went to...”

“Stiles, I get it, okay. You can stop trying to make an excuse, you’ve made your point.”

“My point?”

“You don’t want me to take this job, do you. You don’t want to move. I get it. But next time, can you just tell me what you’re feeling instead of making me or Melissa worry like that.” Then it clicked together. His dad thought he had run away, had run off with Scott (or at least with Scott’s blessing, who knows what Melissa thought), out of anger, rebellion, pick your emotion, in retaliation for being told he may have to move. “And if you really feel that strongly about it, well then... I won’t take the job. Not this time.” Well shit, it was everything Stiles wanted to happen in the opposite way he would ever want it happening. He didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t move. He didn’t want to be the reason for his father’s unhappiness. 

“Dad...” But he also really didn’t want his dad to take the job.

“I am reading this right, right? Or is something else going on?” You can make a hundred choices a day and still never be prepared for decision making of this caliber. It was not a black and white, do you or do you not want to move, issue. He wanted to move and he didn’t want to move, he wanted to stay with Scott and he didn’t want to stay anywhere near Beacon Hills. He wanted to master time travel and kill Peter Hale. What he wanted more than that, was to not have to make this decision.   
“The truth is, Dad,... I don’t think now is the best time to move.” Maybe he’s been spending too much time with werewolves, but he could swear he could taste the disappointment. He just wasn’t sure which Stilinski it was coming from.

 

Scott could feel the disappointment coming off his mother before he opened the door. No, of course his insane day couldn’t end with perhaps a few hours of peaceful sleep before he had to wake up and start the whole thing over again with school. How in the holy hell was it only Tuesday? He opened the door and met his mother at the top of the stairs.

“Do I even want to know where you’ve-” she stopped when her son wrapped his arms around her. 

“I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re okay. Try to get some sleep, okay.” He then shuffled over to his bedroom.

“Yeah, you too.” No parenting book in the world could help Melissa with a son like Scott. But she figured that since he apologized, unprompted, she was still doing okay. They were still doing okay. It was now time for this mom to do as her son said and try to get some much needed sleep. 

Her son didn’t sleep at all. 

Stiles offered a ride in the morning. Mornings were getting too chilly for bike riding. Neither of them felt like taking the long trip to school alone either. It also gave Scott a chance to take a short, much needed, nap. However, there was a flaw in getting a ride from Stiles: Stiles was also tired.

Jackson got out of his car around the same time Stiles half hopped half tumbled out of his. He rubbed at his face, trying to appear more alert than he felt. He had only dozed off for a few seconds before he had collided with the back of Jackson’s fancy Porsche. He raised his arms in quick surrender before Jackson could even start yelling. 

“Good morning, Jackson, nice to see you’ve decided to rejoin the world of academia.”

“Are you blind, Stilinski?” 

“Ah, I completely apologize, though in my defense, your shiny car is so much smaller than mine, it must have slipped right under my eye line.”

“You know what, just shut up and give me your information.”

“My information, well, what do I know? Ah... I know you turned into a lizard monster three days ago and went on a killing spree at the Argents’ house. I know you’re no longer a lizard creature thanks to some crafty killing by a werewolf, you know, those people you and your friends like to illegally hunt and murder, should I keep going? Cause I’ve got tons more.” Jackson was visibly uncomfortable and Stiles was loving every second of it. 

“Did you tell your dad what you know?”

“Did I tell my dad that you’re the one who killed the Argents, including our school Principal and the Secretary?” Jackson held back an outburst.

“Are you going to?” he ground out. Torturing Jackson was becoming less fun. 

“That depends, do you remember killing anyone of those people? Did you want to?”

“Did you just ask me if I wanted to kill one of my best friend’s family?” Okay, so Jackson wasn’t the only one who could ask a stupid question. 

“Well, do you remember any of it?”

“Look, I don’t want to talk about this with you, okay, so just shut up!”

“Do you want to talk about it with Scott? He tried to kill me once, so you sort of have that in common.” 

“No, I don’t! So just drop it. Just... get back in your car and leave.” Maybe it was just the angle of the sun, but Jackson’s eyes appeared really blue a second ago, as in more than they usually look. A bright blue.

“Fine, good luck.” Stiles then left as instructed and got back into his car, where Scott was still sleeping. It didn’t matter if his best friend had missed it. He still felt awesome. He also made sure to tell Scott about his Jackson encounter as soon as he did wake up, as soon as they arrived at school. 

When he did, Scott pointed out that just because Derek or Peter said so, it didn’t prove that Jackson was no longer capable of becoming that lizard monster. Stiles made a mental note to be nicer to Jackson the next time he saw him. He would also like to make, at least, one non wolf or lizard person friend. Not that there’s anything wrong with Scott, but in the past month or so, he has gone from knowing zero wolf people to eleven, if he includes the five new ones from last night. And that is ten too many wolf people. 

Speaking of wolf people, it took Scott leaving his side to notice Isaac down the hall, but what interested him was the fact that it was only Isaac. Where were Derek’s other children? Scott, on the other hand, had no interest in the whereabouts of Erica or Boyd, he only wanted to see Isaac, and then he wanted to know why Jackson also wanted to see Isaac.

 

Isaac had gotten very little sleep last night. He kind of wished he had tried to runaway last night, then he would have been put under “house arrest” with Erica and Boyd (PACK) and could have gotten some rest. Then again, he really didn’t want to stay at Hale House any longer than he had to, and home was never a good option. Home...

“Hey.” Isaac got shocked twice, once for being snuck up on and the second time when seeing it was Jackson who called.

“Ummm..hi.” The last time he saw his classmate was when he had tried to kill him at the Argents’ house. So he has every right to feel uneasy.

“Look, I know I usually wait until no one’s around, but... well, I realize that’s a jerk thing to do. Anyway, here.” Jackson then held up a box wrapped in shiny silver wrapping paper. Over the past four or so months of their sexual relationship, Jackson has actually given Isaac a lot of gifts. But Isaac knew this wasn’t “that” type of gift. He knew that the man standing before him, who had gone on a killing spree over the past week, had still remembered that today was Isaac’s birthday and he even bought a gift for him. The hug from Isaac that resulted was instinctual; Isaac couldn’t verbalize his gratitude. PACK. He noticed Scott standing, pouting, a foot away when they separated. Jackson turned to see where he was looking.

“Jackson.” Said a female voice, and they all looked to the right, where Lydia was standing. Jackson then promptly left Isaac’s side and started hurrying down the hall in the opposite direction of Lydia. Lydia then spun on her heel and walked off as if it didn’t bother her that her murderous boyfriend had just hurried away from the sight of her. 

Scott quickly forgot about the drama he was glad to not be a part of when he caught sight of Isaac placing his bag on the floor so his freed hand could open his gift from Jackson. Scott wanted to toss that gift in the trash.

“Why did Jackson give you a gift?” If it was his way of saying sorry for trying to kill Isaac on Friday, then Scott would like a gift as well.

“Well, I haven’t opened the card yet, but I’m guessing it’s for my birthday.” With the way Scott was angrily staring at the box, Isaac decided he should put it away for now and open it later. 

He placed it on the top shelf of his locker as Scott asked, “Birthday...w-when’s your birthday?”

“Today.” 

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I never told Jackson either.” Oh, hurtful. 

“You saying he’s a better boyfriend than me?”

“No, wait... you... wanna be my boyfriend?” He did use that word out loud, didn’t he. 

“What do you think last night was about?”

“An Alpha pack coming in to select a new Beacon Hills’s Alpha... I’m kidding, but I mean... are you sure?”

“What does this tell you.” Scott then proceeded to kiss Isaac. It’s hard to give surprise kisses to someone on the tall side of the height scale. By standing on his tip toes, Scott managed. He also managed to slightly fall into Isaac. And then he had the strange urge to bite Isaac on the neck, to mark him, to rub his body all over his. RUB. RUT. Scott didn't think it was possible for him to become a more sex crazed person, but his wolf was down right kinky. He wondered if Isaac’s wolf was feeding him the same message. He hoped so. He figured it might be true when Isaac’s hands stared rubbing up and down Scott’s back as their kiss continued. 

“There will be no P.A.D. on school grounds.” A familiar voice said near them. It was then that Scott noticed that they had not only gotten the attention of Kali, one of the female Alphas from last night, but most of the students in the hallway. 

“I think you mean PDA.” Stiles corrected as he scooted his body near them without getting too close to Kali. 

“Why are you here?” Scott asked while turning fully toward her. Scared, he was. Show it, he would not.

“And why are you wearing a name tag that says “Principal K. Bale” on it?” Isaac questioned. 

“Didn’t your Alphas tell you this morning? I will be your principal for the time being. It’s the easiest way to observe all you teenaged wolves.”

“And the school board just let you in here?” Stiles wanted to know.

“I can be very convincing. Now, which one of you can tell me more about the Omega who just left, the one you referred to as “Jackson”?” She ended her question with her eyes on Isaac. 

 

Jackson, the apparent wolf person in question, kept his eyes on the ground as he ran through the halls. He knew it had been a bad idea to come in today. He wasn’t ready. He may never be. But he also couldn’t take another day at home, where he was uncharacteristically smothered by his adopted (adoptive?) parents. There was only so much new he could take. Isaac turning into a wolf person had been new, though exciting. Scott McCall attacking him had been new and terrifying. Derek Hale, who hadn’t even introduced himself at that point, coming in and biting him had been new and exhilarating and terrifying. Losing gaps of time and waking up to being naked and bloody in his room had made him feel a new, higher level of terror. Waking up, standing and naked in Allison's backyard with Lydia’s arms around him and everyone else on the ground not moving went from confusing to scary to completely unbelievable. 

He’s a murderer. Mr. Argent had said it. Derek Hale, after he finally introduced himself, had said it. They all wanted to know what happened, what he remembered, and why he did what he did. For every question they asked him, he had a thousand more. And then Stilinski had the audacity to ask him yet again more questions. Questions he didn’t have answers to. Questions he didn’t want answers to. 

He just wanted to forget. Even with the little he did know, he just wanted to go a day, an hour, a minute where he didn’t remember any of it, where he didn’t know that he was a murderer. That without his knowledge or consent, or will, he was capable of killing people, and not just anyone, people he cared about. 

If he could just have one minute. He almost had that minute and more when he looked at his calendar today and saw that it was Isaac’s birthday. Fortunately, he had bought a gift weeks ago. He had noticed Isaac was in desperate need of new shoes and acted accordingly. He was crap at anything that resembled romance, so it usually took a few weeks for him to give a gift, in general. Usually, he would just leave them near Isaac’s bike in the morning or wait until after sex because everything is easier to say or do after sex. Birthday gifts were easier gestures. He could even do it in person.

He was having his minute, he forgot for a moment, with Isaac, until he spotted McCall, until he saw Lydia. And then it all came back again like with Stiles when that punk hit his car and he needed to get out of that hallway. However, it didn’t matter how far he ran, he couldn’t run from his own thoughts. He stopped running when he reached the pool room. He leaned back and sat down against a wall. He got an idea as he watched the water’s surface. Perhaps he could drown his thoughts. It was easy to drown out the cheers during swim meets, to only focus on doing his best, swimming his fastest. For a time, nothing else would matter or be on his mind.

It was worth a shot. 

He didn’t bother to undress or change his clothes. He stepped up to the ledge and dove in. It felt great. He didn’t feel like swimming though, he just let himself sink to the bottom. He let himself drown. No, he wasn’t suicidal, he just needed a brief break from... everything. 

He couldn’t even get that. About ten seconds into his peaceful “swim” there was a commotion in the water. Someone had entered the pool and they were swimming right for him. Oh no, was it a hunter? Derek? McCall? He couldn’t tell who just came in and grabbed him was. He found out when, together, they reached the surface. Mr. Savior was a Senior, Jackson has seen him around, in the halls, between classes. He kept holding on to Jackson and telling him he was okay now, that it was all going to be okay. 

“No it’s not! Get off me!” He pushed the guy hard enough to get him off and he pulled himself out of the pool. The guy then started yelling at him as Jackson thundered into to the locker room. He knew he shouldn’t stay here long either. Mr. Rescue would likely come in at any minute and continue his tirade. Jackson collapsed onto a bench and pulled at his hair. He just wanted to be left alone. Was that too much to ask? He laid down on the bench, despite his earlier worry, and closed his eyes, praying for a moment of true rest. Just one moment.

His makeshift peace was soon interrupted by a loud scream.

 

Scott thought he heard a scream as he sat in English class. But the thought left him when the teacher asked him to repeat what she had just said. 

“You just asked me to repeat what you just said.” She was not amused. Perhaps she has heard that one before. He couldn’t help not paying attention. Moments before class had started, he had learned that Jackson was now a werewolf, or really has been one since Friday. He didn’t know what what could be worse, a mindless killing lizard Jackson or...a wolf Jackson. What if the Alpha pack decided to make Jackson the head Alpha. After all, he can shift into two things, and has shown to be able to efficiently kill wolf hunters. So what if he was an asshole, they probably didn’t take things like that into consideration when selecting Alphas. And then he would have to submit (whatever that entails) to Jackson. Call him “his” Jackson. Isaac would call him his Jackson. 

And we can’t have that now can we? KILL JACKSON. Calm down. A second scream broke his and his wolf’s thoughts and he knows he hadn’t imagined this scream. 

 

 

Jackson heard only silence after the first scream. So he wasn’t sure if he had actually heard it or if it had been a scream from his memories. He got up anyway. He made his way back to the pool area. All was still. He was about to chalk it up to memory when he saw him. The Senior from before was laying by the edge of the pool. Jackson slowly walked up to him and prayed with all his might that the guy was just resting. That any second, he would wake up and start yelling at him again. His heart sank once he got close enough to see that the guy’s eyes were already wide open. As was his mouth. Not again, he thought. He ran. 

 

The second scream had come from the teacher who had gone into the pool area after hearing the first scream and had discovered the student’s body. The teacher’s scream drew out the new Principal, two teenaged wolves, and Stiles. The boys had to stay back, out in the hallway, as an ambulance was called. The group moved outside and Allison joined them shortly after it showed up. 

“What happened?” After being attacked by her, twice, Scott didn’t know how he was suppose to react around her. At any rate, she didn’t seem as angry today as she had been yesterday.

So he answered, “We don’t know. They found a body by the pool.”

“A body? Were there... was it done by a... werewolf?”

“Wolf Person, and why would we tell you that?” Isaac spat out. Clearly, he was still upset about being shot with an arrow last night (damn, was last night hectic). Scott also wasn’t thrilled by the fact that she had tried to kill his boyfriend twice in the span of only three days. But slashing her throat wasn’t going to solve things or even make him feel better about it. 

“We didn’t smell any blood, if that’s what you want to hear. I think he just drowned.” Scott tried to keep his voice calm, keep all their voices calm.

“But it looked like Jason Nesby.” Stiles spoke up. 

“So?” 

“So, he’s the captain of the Varsity swim team. How could he drown?”

“He could if someone held him under.” Isaac answered. 

“Or something.” Allison accused.

“We are not things.” Isaac ground out. So much for Scott’s attempt to keep the calm. 

“So you actually admit it was a wolf?”

“He didn’t say that.” He said, though he doubted Allison was listening to him. 

Neither was Isaac, who explained, “If it had been, it would have been your body they found.” Allison reached behind her. Isaac’s eyes glowed yellow. 

“Enough!” Scott shouted. “Allison, whatever you have behind you, put it away, the cops are right over there. And I don’t mean this as a threat but, most likely, Isaac and I are not the only wolves watching you right now.” He knew that for a fact since Kali was watching them. And he wouldn’t be surprised if Derek and/or Peter was around somewhere. 

“You mean the Alphas from last night.” Her knives weren’t the only things that were sharp. Scott nodded and resisted glancing in Kali’s direction. He didn’t think it would be a good idea to make these two aware of each other just yet. “Thank you, by the way, for last night.”

“Uh... no problem.” She then gave one last look at each of them, and at the body being loaded into the ambulance, before she went back inside without another word. Isaac spun on Scott.

“What did you do for her last night?” Isaac quickly asked. Jealousy sounded sexy on him.

“I don’t know.” Was Scott’s honest answer. 

“So, what are our theories for what did this?” Stiles asked, bringing the focus back to what was being held in the ambulance that was driving away. When Isaac looked away, Scott guessed he had an answer, and with Kali around, and with Sheriff Stilinski heading in their direction, he also guessed that Isaac didn’t want to share it just yet. 

Unfortunately, he never got a chance to ask Isaac because they were all sent back to class after being asked questions by Stiles’s Dad and Kali. And by then, he and Isaac had different classes. And by lunch, Isaac had disappeared. He saw Lydia again and Danny, with crutches. Though they had been there to fight his fellow wolves, he was glad to see that they were relatively okay. Seeing Lydia again also reminded him of Jackson, who also has this lunch period. Call him paranoid if you must, but he didn’t like that both Jackson and Isaac were missing. So, shortly after sitting down at the lunch table, he got up with the intent to find them. 

“Where are going?” Stiles asked.

“To find Isaac.”

“Isaac went home.” Or not. “And did you eat my pudding?” He sat back down and gave Stiles his full attention. 

“No, and how do you know Isaac went home?”

“Because when I saw he wasn’t in Chem I texted him. Derek picked him up, something about being an overprotective Alpha. He doesn’t think school is safe anymore because of the pool body. I wish my dad would think that.” Scott nodded, wishing the same about his mom. Though in her defense, she had no idea any of this happened yet. 

“Same. But I really need to talk to Isaac. I think he knows something about the pool body, about who did it.”

“I think I know too.” Scott gestured a “what, who?” Stiles looked around before he answered, “Didn’t you see, in the parking lot... Jackson’s car was gone.”

“Jackson?” As convenient as that would be, Scott doubted Jackson was behind this blood free death. If anything, it didn’t fit with his method of killing. “But there weren’t any claw marks.”

“True, and I’m not saying it is him. I just think it’s highly suspicious that he takes off, in the direction of the pool, then he disappears right after Jason dies. Plus, like I said before, Jason was the captain of the Varsity team, and well, Jackson is the captain of the J.V. team. Who else could drown a great swimmer but another great swimmer?” 

“I guess... but we should check the body ourselves, first, then make our guesses.” 

“We should what now?”

“We need to check out the body, you know, make sure there really are no claw marks or fingerprints around his-”

“Finger imprints.”

“Finger imprints around his neck or something.”

“Or make sure he doesn’t smell like Jackson, at least.” Stiles agreed. And so the made the plan. Tonight, after work, they would visit the hospital. Right, they were going to the hospital to make sure a fellow wolf person didn’t just drown a fellow classmate. And to think, this day had begun so normally and nicely with him and Isaac and the kissing and - 

“Ah, shit.”

“What?”

“I didn’t even wish Isaac a Happy Birthday.”

“Dude, you’re the worst boyfriend ever.”

“Shut up, I know.” Scott then tried to think of a solution to his problem (texting wasn’t going to cut it, according to Stiles) that didn’t involve actually going back to Hale House. 

 

Meanwhile, at Hale House, Isaac decided to open the gift from Jackson shortly after he set his things down in the bedroom. After he pulled the wrapping paper off and opened the box, he found himself looking at a pair of expensive looking sneakers, in his size. The conflicted feelings clawed at him. He shouldn’t still care about Jackson, the guy could be out killing someone right now. He might have killed someone today. Though the killings had to be due to the wolf or lizard in him, as a human, Jackson was still an ass. However, it was part of what Isaac liked about him. He liked getting past that attitude, breaking through that wall Jackson held up so well. He understood how it was easier to keep everyone out, than it was to let anyone in. He had felt the same way shortly after, and for a long time after, Camden had died. He didn’t fully understand Jackson’s reasons for acting that way, but he has seen him when he wasn’t, when Jackson was caring and kind. He was holding the proof of that care now.

He stopped wanting to be Jackson’s boyfriend when Scott entered his life, but he didn’t think he would ever stop wanting to be Jackson’s friend. 

“Knock knock, Birthday Boy.” He looked up and at Erica. She didn’t really need to knock, this was her room too. They all sleep in the same room. All the Betas do anyway; no one knows where Derek sleeps. “Would you like to have some Birthday cookies?”

“You made me cookies?”

“Only about five dozen, there really isn’t much else to do around here. I was actually surprised the stove worked at all.” Isaac had to agree there. Up to this point, Derek always bought them fast food to eat. Which was another mystery they loved throwing theories at: where does Derek Hale get his money? Insurance money from the house fire couldn’t last so many years, could it? Erica’s been living with the guy for a few months now and she still didn’t know. Their favorite theories involved strip clubs and Peter in a pimp suit.

The two made their way downstairs and into the kitchen. Isaac stopped short when he saw Margret sitting at the kitchen table. She was reading _House Construction for Dummies_. Erica kept on walking. On one of the kitchen counters, where three plates piled with cookies. 

“Margret’s been guarding them for you.” Erica explained. Margret gave a little wave without looking up from her book.

And she said, “The house has been smelling delicious all morning, it’s maddening.” 

“She even had to yell at Derek.” Erica chipped in. “It was hilarious.” 

“My cousin does pout quite adorably, don’t you, Dare?” she asked and looked toward the doorway that Isaac found the nerve to step through. Derek slowly emerged from it. “Did you have something you wanted to say to your Beta?”

“Yes. Are you sure you didn’t see or hear anything during the attack? Did it look like a simple drowning?”

“I was actually thinking more along the lines of “Happy Birthday”, but I guess we should discuss that too.” Margret conceded. Erica was right, it was funny to see Derek being chastised, to see him pout. It wasn’t the same when Peter did it. “Kali told me she heard whispering among the Betas about it being a possible wolf attack, however, what bothers me is that they were also talking to an unknown girl, long dark hair, and she smelled human, like that Steven one.”

“Stiles.” Derek corrected.

“It was probably Allison.” Erica unhelpfully interjected. Isaac flinched. It would soon be his turn to be chastised. 

“Allison, as in the hunter, Allison?” Derek demanded, he was stood straight and was talking to Isaac. Isaac looked down as he nodded. There was no point in lying to this bunch. “And why would you be discussing a potential wolf issue with a wolf killer?” 

“I wasn’t.”

“What?”

“I - I didn’t want to tell her anything, or talk to her at all, but Scott... it’s probably not a wolf thing anyway.”

“Probably, you’re going to risk our lives on a probably?”Derek leaned forward. Margret interjected.

“Now, now, I’m sure it’s nothing that serious. But he is right, it’s better if you, any of you, do not become too friendly with wolf hunters. It does run the risk of them holding up to their names and burning an entire wolf family alive, right Dare?” Derek’s silence was an answer in itself. “Oh yes, Peter’s been telling me some extraordinary tales. Have anything to add?”

“Did he tell you he killed Laura in order to become an Alpha?” Derek asked through his teeth. 

Without skipping a beat, Margret responded with, “No, but I was wondering when that would be explained. Come, let’s leave the children to their sweets while we go have a much needed talk.” She stood up from the table, Derek had no choice but to follow his Aunt? Second cousin? her out. 

Erica and Isaac shared knowing smiles. Their smiles vanished when Ethan and Kali walked into the kitchen. Ethan was carrying a large, bloodied sack. 

“Where’s Derek?” Kali asked.

“You just missed him... he’s talking with Margret.” Ethan and Kali exchanged a look after hearing Erica’s answer. 

“Oh. Wait, are you the Birthday boy?” She asked Isaac. Isaac blushed and nodded. “How old are you now?”

“16.” She nodded as if he was confirming something.

“And how old are you?” Ethan asked Erica.

“Too young for you.” Kali told him.

“You’re confusing me with Aidan. I’m simply making conversation.” Ethan defended. 

“Sure you are.” She turned back to Isaac. “Are you dating anyone?” Isaac had a scary feeling that there were wrong and right answers to these questions.

“I am.” Isaac answered slowly. 

“You are?” Erica asked. “Since when?”

“Since today, I guess.” 

“That’s my kind of birthday.” Ethan added, then said, “Good for you, Kid, now you mind moving that plate off the table so real food can be eaten.” Ethan said as he adjusted his hold on the sack he was still carrying. Erica took the plate away, she also stepped back from the table and closer to Isaac, who was still by the other doorway.

“What’s in there?” Erica had to ask. 

“Lunch.” Ethan said.

“But it’s moving.” Isaac pointed out. Ethan examined the sack, then he lifted it and brought it down hard against the table, making everyone jump. 

“Now, it’s not.” He said. 

“Who’s hungry?” Kali asked with a wicked smile. 

 

 

Stiles had a wicked smile on as he and Scott pulled up to the hospital later that night. This was the kind of thing he could handle, that he could do to help. Safe, dead body checking missions. At first, he was completely against the idea for squeamish reasons. But it would mark the first time in a while that he was going out with Scott and their lives wouldn’t be in any kind of danger. Even school has become dangerous (with its hunters, wolves, Jackson). 

“Okay, when we get close, you stay behind while I-” Scott began as they stood outside, with the entrance to the hospital across the street.

“What no. I am going with you, all the way.”

“But someone needs to watch out for my mom, or Derek or Peter or any wolf person, really, or even a wolf hunter or the cops or if another nurse or doctor-”

“Okay I get it, but why do I have to be that guy?”

“Easy, I’m the only one who can actually smell if Jackson was the one to kill Jason.”

“Kay, but how are you going to get in there, you suck at lying.” While Stiles has been trained against a cop, not just a cop, the town Sheriff.

“What, I’m great at lying. I did eat your pudding today at lunch.” Stiles pointed furiously at him.

“I knew it!” 

“Whatever, let’s just go and get this over with, okay.”

“Fine, but you owe me a chocolate pudding, Scotland McCall.” Scott rolled his eyes, of all the stupid nicknames his dad used to use, Stiles had to like that one. The two young men made their way into the hospital as casually as they could. However, they really couldn’t afford running into Scott’s mom or anyone who knew Scott was her son, which was just about every other person in the place, so they wound up creeping along with the hoods of their sweatshirts around their faces. When they got to the right hallway, Stile positioned himself in a chair adjacent to the room Scott was about to enter: the Morgue. 

Scott was about to enter the room, when an all too familiar smell entered his nose. And then he heard a matching voice. ALLISON. He reeled back from the door.

“We need to get out of here. Allison is in there.” Scott whispered. Stiles ducked down in his chair.

“What? Why? Can you hear her?” 

“A little.”

“Well, what is she saying?”

“She’s not talking now, her dad is.” Scott then moved closer to the door again. The old saying should be amended to say curiosity killed the cat and wolf. “They’re looking at Jason’s body.”

“Okay and?”

“Shhhh.” Minutes passed as Scott stayed near the door. He then suddenly grabbed Stiles and they booked it into an empty room across the way. Stiles clung to Scott’s side as they held their breaths and waited for the Argents to walk past them.

When it all seemed clear, Stiles straightened up, but still whispered, “So, what did you hear.” Scott thought about waiting until they were back in the jeep, but he knew his best friend wouldn’t wait that long. 

“There were no external wounds on his body. And it does look like he drowned because his body puffed up, you know, filled with water, but...”

“But?”

“Her dad said... the chart said... no water was found in his lungs. Water was everywhere except his lungs.”

“What does that mean?”

“Mr. Argent seems to think it means that whoever killed Jason, whoever drowned him, wasn’t human.”


	10. Shifting Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of stuff happens. Yet no Stiles. But Isaac does something shocking. Scott does something shocking. Lydia does something shocking. Erica too. There is also excessive use of _italics_. And someone dies.

_A fifteen year old Margret Hale entered the building slowly, or what was considered a slow pace for her. She wanted to treasure every second of this moment. This was, after all, her first day of high school. It will be glorious._

_She waved at everyone she saw. She greeted every teacher. She gayly roamed the halls, happy to just be in them. The happy bubble burst when she realized she had no idea where she currently was or where she needed to be. She had a piece of paper with a “homeroom” number on it, but the number was “201” and the room numbers near her were in the four hundreds. Where the hell was she?_

_“Are you lost, little girl?” MY PACK! NOW I’M SAFE. ALL IS GOOD AGAIN._

_“Peter!” She ran over to him and threw her arms around her older cousin. “Help me, I’m lost.” He stroked her hair. “They should have included a map with this thing or, at least, some directions, is that a new shirt? Did Auntie Jill buy it for you?”_

_“No, I bought it myself, and you need to be downstairs; this is the Senior floor.”_

_“That would explain why you’re here.”_

_“Follow me.” Margret held her cousin’s hand as they walked through the halls. His calmness seeped into her and she could feel all and any first day jitters fade. She was once again thankful to be a wolf person. Then her eyes locked with a young man on the stairs. He stopped. She stopped. Peter was forced to stop. She may be younger, but her natural Alpha blood made her stronger than him._

_Some complaints started coming in from behind the threesome on both ends of the stairs. The young man moved first; Peter pulled Margret closer to him as he passed. Margret waited until they reached the bottom of the stairs before she asked who he was._

_“That was Chris Argent.” was the answer._

_“Argent?” Margret had heard about the Argents, the trained wolf killers, however..._

_“Don’t we have a treaty with the Argents? We don’t harm others, they don’t harm us, something like that?” She has seen her cousin and head of the Hale pack, Talia, talking with that old, bald, hunter Argent before. She really didn’t like him. He smelled evil._

_“Yes, but what do you call a wolf killer that doesn’t kill? They’re going against their nature, and when they break, and they will, it will be our bones that get broken beyond repair. Stay away from Chris or any Argent, even the little one, you hear me?”_

_“I hear you.” And she did. She spent the entire week going from home to school, from class to class, from school to home again, without any problem listening to her cousin’s advice. But then the next Monday came around. But then she lingered a bit too long in the cafeteria. But then she caught the Seniors coming down for lunch. But then she collided with Chris Argent. She didn’t know it was him until he looked up. By his reaction, he was just registering and now knew who, or rather what, she was as well. She was terrified._

_She was also a Hale._

_“Please don’t tell your family how klutzy the Hale wolves are getting. We have a vicious reputation to maintain, you know.” Chris’s mouth opened in surprise, but he soon recovered._

_“Your secret’s safe with me.” He then smiled a small smile._

_After that, Margret made it a habit to leave the cafeteria only as the Seniors were coming down for lunch. She made it a habit to say hi to Chris, even when her cousin was close enough to hear. One day, however, she caught a bit of a conversation between Chris and some other guy that Peter had also labeled as a hunter (but not an Argent)._

_“Chris man, where’s the beef?” the other hunter asked._

_“What?”_

_“Why is that Hale bitch always greeting you? Is she your friend?”_

_“You know what they say: keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”_

_“Look, I think she heard you.” Chris looked surprised for the second time since they met and, dare she think it, he looked disappointed. Margret hurried away, seeing all she wanted to see. Peter had been right; the Argents could not be trusted._

 

Isaac has never had an abundant amount of friends. Throughout the years, he would have, at most, two at any given time and, at least, zero for some others. Since being bitten, he has had more friends and people who generally care about him, though he wonders if Peter really cares, than he has ever realistically imagined possible for him. He doesn’t want to lose anything he has gained, not when, up till recently, he has only been living a life of loss. One of the things he has gained is his friendship with Jackson, which developed over the summer. This is how he would explain it to Scott, if he ever asks, if he ever finds out. And Scott may wonder why his boyfriend failed to show up to lacrosse practice this morning, in a show of support for the team’s co-captain; he might do that. Isaac kept this in mind as he walked up to Jackson’s door.

He was greeted by Jackson’s mother, who gladly let him in. He was bombarded with information and inquiry. He was Jackson’s first visitor. Mrs. Whittemore suspected something was wrong between her son and his friends. She found it strange that not even Danny has stopped by for a visit. She wanted to know if Isaac knew if what had happened in school was at all related to what had happened at the Argents’ house. Since Isaac was there, she wanted to know if he could explain what exactly did happen at the Argents’ house, since Jackson never has. 

And how would one begin to explain why they were found naked on the front lawn of a friend’s house where people were found dead or paralyized inside.

Isaac didn’t have answers for half of her questions and he couldn’t give answers for the rest. He couldn’t say that her son most likely lost his friends due to being the unintended cause for the death of a friend’s family members. That his wolf hunting friends no longer wanted to associate with Jackson’s newly turned, wolf self. Though he could speculate that those were the reasons.

Also, Danny is still on crutches so it could be harder for him to get around, to visit. The house _is_ on a steep hill.

Isaac entered Jackson’s darkened room slowly. He didn’t know what to expect, but the sight of a large Jackson - shaped lump under an expensive looking comforter fit just right. Now Isaac had to quickly decide if he wanted to wake Jackson up or not. He hadn’t come over with a fixed plan, speech, or course of action in mind; he just wanted to see Jackson, to see how he was doing. And he wanted to get it all done with before school started. He had roughly fifteen minutes. He shuffled his new shoes over to Jackson’s bed. 

“Jackson?” It’s been a week since Jackson has gone to school. It might also be a week since he has gotten out of bed. “You awake?” 

“Hmmmmm.” Not awake, but waking up. Isaac began to slowly pull back the covers, he stopped when he reached the bottom of Jackson’s bare back. Curiosity made him hold the comforter up and peek at the rest. 

“Isn’t it a bit chilly to sleep naked?”

“Not in here.” Isaac let go of the comforter as Jackson rolled onto his back. “Like what you see?”

“Let’s not.”

“What? It’s nothing you haven’t skillfully appreciated before.” Isaac resisted taking a step back.

“I guess you’re feeling better then,” he was able to look at any part of Jackson, particularly his face, now. “Do you feel better?”

“Do you mean, do I still feel like killing people?”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” Jackson sat up and gestured for Isaac to sit next to him. Isaac did so, but he still gave Jackson some space. In other words, he made sure there was some space between him and a naked Jackson. “I mean, how are you, how are you feeling?”

“It’s still a stupid question.” Isaac’s eyebrows shifted closer. “I got turned into a monster that killed one of my best friend’s family, leaving me with no one and this fucking _killing_ tendency, and you’re really asking me how I feel?”

“It’s not your fault. It’s not like you meant to do any of that, right?”

“I still did it. If it wasn’t for me...” As someone who has been battling his own killer within for the past month or so, Isaac could understand Jackson’s thinking. He also knew he was wrong. None of them could be held responsible for what these biological foreign agents, that have been forced into their bodies, causes them to do. It’d be like blaming a person for having an allergic reaction to bee stings or blaming a pregnant mother for having morning sickness. At least, that’s how Peter had explained it on his first night. While in the cage. His Derek just kept growling at him.

“Has my Derek told you anything... about... anything?”

“He told me I’m a murdering lizard monster. Or was. The Argents did too, in case you’re wondering. And I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Okay...” Isaac would rather not discuss what happened at the Argents’ home either. The killer inside of him still wanted to take revenge on Allison for her violent actions against him. “Well, ummm, besides all that then, did my Derek tell you you are a part of his pack now... or still?” Jackson looked away.

“He might have mentioned it.” he mumbled. “I don’t want anything to do with that freak though.” ALPHA. DEFEND. Isaac needed to take a deep breath before continuing. Honestly, though he had his faults, he didn’t think his Derek was as bad as people (and by “people”, it’s mainly Scott and Stiles, and even then it’s mainly Stiles) made him out to be. Isaac liked him. Though his opinion of what makes good people might be a bit off. The man next to him is a prime example. 

“I’m part of his pack.”

“That explains the possessive pronoun. Did he bite you against your will too?”

“Yeah, actually, he did.” However, something he has never even admitted to Scott was that he had gone out that night (because he had to work), had wondered around the streets, hoping to get bitten. Of course, he ended up changing his mind when he actually saw his Derek’s red eyes, but that’s besides the point.

“You know, this is all McCall’s fault, if he didn’t try to _kill_ me-” DEFEND! wait... Scott _was_ wrong to do that.

“But part of you wanted to be bitten, right, you’ve told me before-”

“None of those people would be dead right now. And I wasn’t even a wolf, that freak didn’t even turn me right, what, the hell, is up with that?”

“Don’t call him that. And you have said you wouldn’t mind being a wolf person, that sometimes you wished for it.”

“I wanted to be stronger, better, not a killer!” Jackson’s eyes flashed blue as he hunched forward but not closer to Isaac. Isaac made a mental note of it. It could be a lizard thing, a pre shift warning.

“You didn’t mean to kill Allison’s family.” How did they get back to this?

“And that guy in the pool!” Jackson turned toward Isaac.

“You didn’t do that!” And now they were shouting. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You didn’t do that,” he repeated. That put a hole in the tension, gave the boys time to breathe, time to think. “We don’t know what did,” he continued after a beat. “But it wasn’t you, unless you’ve gained the ability to drown people without using water.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if I could.” Now he was just being difficult.

“Jackson.” Jackson laid back against his headboard and closed his eyes.

“Go home, Isaac, before I _unintentionally_ kill you too.” Isaac’s face shifted from a frown to a knowing grin. He couldn’t handle a self loathing Jackson, but angry, annoyed or irrationally dramatic Jackson, he could work with.

“You won’t and you can’t.”

“I could.”

“I’m stronger than you.” That got Jackson sitting straight up, a familiar and welcomed glare in his, normal shade of blue, eyes.

“Even if you were an “Alpha”, you wouldn’t be stronger than me.” he stated in a “let’s make one thing clear” kind of voice. He patted Isaac’s cheek as he finished. Isaac placed his hand under Jackson’s chin.

“No, then, I would be ten times stronger than you.” he explained slowly. Jackson swatted his hand away. Isaac pushed his shoulder. Jackson grabbed his arm and pulled him forward. Yellow eyes looked into vibrant blue before Jackson closed his eyes and kissed Isaac with the same amount of aggression he had been using before. Isaac smiled into the kiss, it felt nice, thrilling really. And it was much better than the shouting or having Jackson talk badly about himself (or their Alpha). Alpha. Beta.

MATE! Scott! Shit! MATE! MATE! Okay, I got it! Isaac pulled away and he pulled Jackson’s arm out from under his shirt. When did that get there? Jackson was genuinely surprised. 

“Stop. I can’t- I have to go.”

“What, why?”

“I- I’m going to be late for school.” Isaac said as he stood up and backed away towards the door.

“Hold on, what’s wrong? Isaac!” Jackson glared at the place Isaac had been before he then sank back into his bed. He couldn’t hold onto his anger towards Isaac. He got it; he wouldn’t want to kiss a murderer either. 

Meanwhile, Isaac couldn’t believe what had just taken place between himself and Jackson. He did not get how it happened, how it started, or how he had let it get to that point. Perhaps he still had... more than friendly feelings for Jackson. And if that was the case, it would be unfair to continue being with Scott. It would be unfair to all those involved. But he had wanted to stop the second he had thought of Scott, that had to mean something. He didn’t think of Scott until after the kiss, that had to mean something too.

Why does it have to mean anything? 

The best course of action for this would be that of non-action. Until he knew exactly what he felt and for whom, he should remove himself from any further situations where he may be liable to feel conflicting or contrasting or just complex, hard to sort through and attach meaning to, emotions. Simply put: He needed to stay as far away from Jackson and Scott as possible until he got his emotional shit together. 

 

Scott was a confused, emotional mess. He has no clue how he got here, or how things had gotten so bad. The day had begun so well. Lacrosse practice went well. He didn’t excessively hurt anyone and Coach only made fun of his running (which he purposely slows down for wolf- on - the - down-low reasons) once. His classes went okay. He turned in, actually did, all his homework and it felt like he was understanding the subject matter presented in each class again. He got his focus back. But then, at lunch, it happened. 

“Scott, is everything okay?” His boss asked. Scott looked up from the drawer he had opened. He completely forgot why he had opened it. 

“Yeah, sorry, Dr. Deaton, what did you need again?” 

“The bandage tape, please.”

“Oh, right.” He took the white roll out of the drawer and then he walked back over to his boss to hand it over. It didn’t really happen _during_ lunch. More like on the way to lunch. That’s when he spotted Isaac. Joy filled him. He had been worried when Isaac wasn’t outside watching him practice, or wasn’t near his locker per usual that morning, that Derek had another overprotective fit (he was actually quite surpised at how often he let Isaac go out so late, at night, this past week). As he gleefully neared Isaac, he got a whiff of some disturbing scents. 

 

Isaac smelled awful and it made Scott feel guilty for some reason. Or was Isaac the one feeling guilty, if that’s what “guilt” smelled like? It could just be the stench of their late night mutual masterbation session from last night. Good times. There would have been more last night, but Scott’s mom had the night off and Scott, sort of, forgot. Still. 

Good times.

Isaac then ducked into a classroom, which is strange because Scott could swear that Isaac had lunch when he had lunch. He was about to follow Isaac when he saw someone beat him to the punch. Principal Kali Bale entered the same classroom Isaac did. And there’s no such thing as coincidence. Scott was certain he was sneaking up on, and eavesdropping in on, a mini pack meeting. What he knew from Isaac was the that Alpha pack tended to question the betas a lot. He didn’t know when or want his turn to come. But besides whatever wolf crap he was about to hear, he really just wanted to see Isaac. 

“What?” He heard Isaac’s voice.

“I said, why do you smell like the omega, the other one, the one you’re not having relations with? Do you know who I am talking about?” Who says “relations anymore”, seriously? He’s going to use that word from now on.

“Ah, I do. I was... visiting him.. he’s an omega?” his Isaac was with who now?

“Do you make it a habit to have close ties with omegas?”

“I... the... relationship happened before being bitten.”

“I see. So this has nothing to do with your feelings on Derek being an ineffective Alpha then?”

“No, definitely not.”

“Who _do_ you think would be an effective Alpha?”

“I don’t... you?” She laughed.

“Good answer, wrong, but good.” she then said that although they couldn’t keep this conversation a secret from certain parties, she would appreciate it if Isaac kept what they discussed now, and in the future, to himself. Scott felt a bit miffed that his boyfriend didn’t nominate him for Alpha. Just because a guy doesn’t always dominate in bed, it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t or doesn’t possess good leadership-

“Scott, are you sure you’re all right?” Dr. Deaton asked, breaking Scott’s past and ongoing thought rant. He assured his boss that he was okay and then he tried his darnedest to stay focused. He tried not to think about what happened at school, or the fact that Isaac continued to evade or ignore him at school. Or that Isaac smelled like Jackson, that was the awful, salty, beachy, but he usually likes beachy, smell he had picked up earlier. Why smell like Jackson? Why visit Jackson? Of course, both his human and animal nature supplied his mind with all sorts of sordid, debauched and depraved images. Instead of Jackson’s bedroom walls being covered in blood, they were covered in streams of milky white -

The bell rang, announcing a visitor. Someone wanted to pick up their cat. Scott then tried _really_ hard to focus on his work. After work, he decided to call Isaac. The plan was to ask calmly: if anything is wrong? Did Scott do something wrong? What can Scott do to make it right? Why did Isaac smell like Jackson today? Oh, a visit? What did they, no, why did Isaac feel the need to visit? Was it a good visit? Did they have, no, does Isaac want to talk about the visit? Why not! MINE! KILL JACKSON. KILL DEREK. START PACK. Stop, no one is dying.This is what insanity must feel like. Scott took out his phone and pressed the call button for his second most used contact. Mom got pushed to third. 

“Hello-”

“Hey, sexy Sir, who-”

“I’m busy. Leave a message if you want to.” Beep.

“Damn it... I mean, hey, Isaac, it’s me, Scott. Uh... so... ummm... I missed you today. Is everything all right? Did you go visiting anywhere today that you want to discuss with me? And if you don’t, that’s fine, that’s between you and him. But nothing happened, right? No, don’t tell me. Unless you want to. Oh hey, great idea, since Derek can’t keep you, I mean, like, safe, why don’t you move in with me? I’ll treat you better, and then I won’t feel like killing-”

“Beep.”

“Damn it, that’s a first.” Scott has never been cut off from an answering machine before. He contemplated calling back, but figured he got the main points of what he wanted to say out. And something he completely didn’t expect to say. Why did he ask Isaac to move in with him? Had the wolf taken over? Could the wolf do that? It didn’t feel like it. No, this felt like a one hundred percent pure Scott thinking off the top of his head with a fifty percent chance of having a brilliant idea, which got cut down to another fifty percent chance of it actually succeeding. He dreams big, folks, he dreams big. 

Now he just needed to convince his mother that his plan, which he did fully support, was brilliant. Maybe they could work some kind of deal out. He gets a live- in study buddy, his grades go back up, and then as a reward (for doing what he should have been doing all along, but hopefully, she doesn’t catch that hole) he gets to... keep... Isaac. 

Or maybe he could go the sob story route. Isaac comes from an abusive home. His father physically abuses him and generally has a short temper with everyone. And he forces Isaac to wear a leather jacket in the fall; it’s horrible.

Whichever route he goes, he still needs to hear what Isaac thinks. There is no need to get into a potential fight with his mother if Isaac isn’t even interested in moving in with him. And if today’s behavior was anything to judge by, he might not be.

 

There is something bothering Isaac, this much, Derek is sure of. The boy smells of guilt and that Jackson guy. But Isaac won’t tell him anything, which stings a bit, since Isaac shares the most out of the three. At least, the stuff that matters (he really doesn’t need to know half the stuff Erica shares). There’s something bothering Erica too. And Boyd. They seem to have had a fight. If only these kids could have their problems one at a time and not all at once. They were all fine a couple of days ago. Maybe something happened at school (the one day he didn’t go watch over them). 

He laid his palms on the table filled with a stack of books he had been leafing through. Some volumes were missing. He could have sworn he had seen them earlier, but he didn’t know how long ago “earlier” even was. 

“You know,” Margret began as she appeared in the doorway of the room, “you were never this grumpy as a child.”

“What do you want, Em?”

“Is that anyway to speak to your, Aunt or Second Cousin, whatever? Then again, I guess your definition of family has changed since you tried to kill your own uncle.”

“He-”

“But I don’t want to talk about him, or depressing subjects in general, I want to know why, a handsome young man like you, doesn’t have somebody.”

“I don’t need-”

“Oh, you need. We all need, it’s one of our primal instincts. So, is Kali not your type or are you really that obtuse. She’s probably already picked out baby names with the way she looks at you sometimes.”

“I haven’t noticed.”

“Don’t lie to me, Mr.Tomanni. You can’t.” Mr. Tomanni was his father’s last name. But his mom, Talia Hale, had been the family Alpha. To be called by his other family name, was a bit of an insult. 

“Then no, she’s not my type.”

“Who is? Who makes your heart beat just a little bit faster at just the mention of or the mispronunciation of his name?” Derek ran his nails across the table. He really wished this conversation wasn’t happening. And, as sometimes, though rare, happens, he wished he wasn’t a wolf person or surrounded by those like him. “What? Not gonna try to deny it? You’re a quick learner. Faster than your uncle, anyway, who still hasn’t learned how to eavesdrop properly. You may enter at any time, Peter.” Much to Derek’s dismay, Peter entered the room with an air that said all was still going according to his plan, including getting caught. “Some things never change.”

“True. I didn’t realize the Punky Brewster look was still in style. You realize that most of the dog jokes we heard as youngsters were inspired by that vintage, plastic atrocity around your neck, don’t you.” 

“And I see your words have gotten sharper the weaker your bite has gotten.” Cue a forced smile from Peter. Derek was just glad the topic of conversation had changed. Now if only he could slip out of this room unnoticed. 

Peter raised one submissive arm, “I was only making an observation.” 

“One attached to a recollection.” Margret fingered her rainbow colored necklace as she added. “Which is odd, considering you claim you couldn’t even remember your own niece before you killed her.”

“It’s all slowly coming back to me.” Peter said, literally without missing a beat. Even so, Derek doubted he had heard the truth. 

 

The truth is, Lydia Martin wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing. But she had to do something. Maybe if it was some other guy, or, like she liked to convince herself, due to their young ages and elevated hormone levels, that this relationship was just an emotionally heightened, sexually grounded relationship between two people who were bound to grow out of it when their minds and bodies fully matured. It happens all the time. It made sense. It was logical. 

It doesn’t describe how she feels about Jackson.

Despite Lydia’s pedagogical level of knowledge on relationships, the differences between men and women, and the mind of an adolescent, she couldn’t help _feeling_ that what she has with Jackson, the guy who let her into his room and is now so patiently waiting for her to speak, is different, is more, is lasting. If anything, that fact that she still cares about him after his horrendous transgressions had to count for something, right? 

Despite what he had done, he still looked and smelled and sounded and acted like Jackson, her Jackson. The man that lets her be pushy when she needs to be, to have control during a time when her home life (parents divorcing in a not- so - civil way) makes her feel helpless. She can be helpless around him, can be weak, can be needy, and she can receive comfort in the form of words and actions. She can curl her body around his. She can be held. She can speak her mind, her opinions, and he not only listens, but more often than not, it’s her choices that they go with, her ideas. She has been able to be sexually expressive and explorative in a safe and positively responsive environment (though he has made her promise to never do that thing with the peanut butter again). He is her rock, her evening star, the one constant thing in an ever changing, ever darkening life. 

She just hopes he feels the same. It’s what she hopes when she finally speaks, when she finally asks, if he will bite her. If he will make her like him. Naturally, he outright says no, lecturing on what being bitten has been like. But then she asks again. And like always, with him, what she wants, she gets.

 

All Boyd wanted was to leave. Correction: he wanted to leave and Erica to leave with him. But the latter wasn’t going to happen. Erica believed they had already fully tried that, and it was simply to dangerous to try it again now. According to the Alpha Pack, they would have to follow a new, pack appointed leader, or die. Boyd could not literally and metaphorically live with either option. He would risk his life to be away from all these malicious wolves, to be free. 

Well, not completely free, the idea of being a lone wolf didn’t really appeal to him, but there had to be a place he could go, a town, a school, where there weren’t only others like him, but there weren’t any medieval weapon wielding hunters sharing gym class with him. He was told there were hunters. He had read about them in History or in Social Studies class. But he was also told that he would be protected, that he would be safe. Now even his own kind of human was threatening to kill him. 

So he packed up. So he told Erica. So they fought, in whispers, at school. But he can’t just leave. His wolf won’t let him. His instincts won’t let him. He almost faints at the thought of now seeing his Alpha one more time. He doesn’t want his Derek to not know he’s leaving. He doesn’t want his Derek to worry. 

His Derek wasn’t even there, at the house, but Erica was. He asked her one more time to come with him. This time, she didn’t say no. She didn’t say anything, she refused to. She wouldn’t even look at him anymore. The answer was in the action. Boyd pressed his lips together and nodded in understanding, feeling disapproval, if not slightly betrayed as well.

He got as far as the front porch. He stopped when he saw Isaac coming up the steps. 

“Heading home?” Isaac asked. It wasn’t unusual for any of the Betas to been seen going to and from their houses with travel bags and sacks of snack food (remember, there was a time when they didn’t know the stove worked). Isaac actually planned to stay at Hale House for the night, for a change. There was also a few things he wanted to talk about with his Derek. 

“Something like that.” Boyd’s words kicked Isaac out of his thoughts and he noticed Boyd smelled nervous, that something was wrong. 

He didn’t get a chance to ask what it was.

“Actually, your little friend here is trying to run away again, away from the Pack.” Aidan, the larger twin, said as he stepped up to the front porch from the side of the house. Isaac hadn’t even seen him. He looked to the other side of the porch, and sure enough, Ethan was now there. 

“You know you’re not allowed to do that, right, Beta?” A voice behind Isaac questioned. It was Ennis, the other large and older Alpha male. The teens were surrounded (on three sides, giong in the house is the only exit option). Boyd knew he couldn’t take them all on in a fight, but if Isaac moved to the side, then he could knock back the old one and make a run for it. If he stayed on the main roads (as soon as he got to one) surely, they wouldn’t try to hurt him where the public may see. Isaac was, indeed, moving away, startled by the appearance of Ennis. And so, Boyd charged forward. He made it down the steps and even up to an amused Ennis. He smiled when Boyd fell forward.

Isaac saw Aidan move, but he couldn’t do a thing to stop it. One second or less, the large man was on the porch and then the next he was knocking his friend, his Pack mate, PACK, down with his massive body. PROTECT. Isaac stepped forward, only to be stopped by an arm reaching around his stomach. Ethan was right behind him, holding him back. Isaac hadn’t seen _him_ move. 

“No, no, Beta, and tell me, did Derek only pick pretty children?” Now Isaac really wanted to get out of his hold. On the ground in front of them, Boyd was turned over to lay on his back and Aidan was still on top of him. 

“Tell me, slowly, for your life is on the line, are you trying to run away from your Pack?” He asked slowly. 

“And you tell me, what kind of man does the pretty Erica like?” Ethan whispered into Isaac’s ear. Isaac played with the crazy idea of fighting Ethan anyway, at least, to get one good shot in, but forced himself to calm down, after all, this was the same wolf man he had seen in action, fighting Peter. And the one who hurt Scott. Ethan grabbed his wrist; Isaac’s claws had come out. “Don’t do that,” he bent Isaac's wrist until his own claws pointed at his stomach. “You might hurt yourself.”

“Just as I thought.” Aidan said. He then raised his clawed hand, and brought it swiftly down across Boyd’s neck. Then he did it again with his other hand. Isaac yelled and his own nails dug into his skin. Erica, who came out on the porch as Aidan had raised his arm the first time, yelled as she ran forward. She threw herself, hands and claws out and into Aidan’s back. She jabbed the top of his shoulder and the middle of his shoulder blades. 

Isaac tried to shake Ethan off of him again, only to have Ethan’s other hand dig into his waist, if he moved now, an entire chunk of his skin would not move with him. So he used his other hand to sink his claws into the back of Ethan’s hand instead. 

Aidan easily reached behind and yanked Erica off of his back. She landed on the ground hard, but she was standing again just as quickly. Kali then appeared between the two. She told them to stop, though she was only looking at Erica. She only had to deal with Erica not listening. Honestly, who was training these Betas? She easily blocked Erica’s arms as they came at her and she used her human hands to grab the teenager by her hair and pull her closer. She used her other hand to grab Erica by her throat.

Ethan let out a low, irritated growl, and he pushed his hand deeper into Isaac’s waist. Isaac’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. 

“Enough!” Margret yelled as she pulled Kali away from Erica. She cast her red eyes in Ethan’s direction. “Let the boy go.” Ethan instantly released Isaac, who fell, knees first, to the ground. Erica also fell to the ground, but for a different reason. She fell next to Boyd’s decapitated body. “Did I order you to attack the other Betas?” She asked the other Alphas.

“No, but she-” Aidan began.

“Is rightfully upset about the loss of her Pack mate. What? You couldn’t handle a couple of scratches from a little girl? Now, -” she paused as Erica stood up without a single glance around or word spoken and ran. She ran away. Ennis took a few steps in her direction. “She’s not leaving, but seeking protection, Ennis, I want to know who she goes to. Do not interact.” He nodded and then took off in the same direction Erica disappeared in. “Now.” She turned back to the others, took a moment to collect her thoughts, then said, “We may have one less Beta to worry about, but we’re no closer to choosing an Alpha. So... this is what we’re going to do.” She ordered the boys to bury the body. She ordered Kali to go to the school, Boyd’s home, anywhere, to ensure that no one knew where he was this evening. She ordered Isaac to come to her. When he didn’t, she went to him. 

“You, you told them to kill Boyd.” he accused.

“You know the rules, you run, you die. We told you all when we first got here. Remember? Now, give me your hand.”

“Why?”

“Enough questions, Isaac.” she held out her hand. At first, he thought she wanted to help him up. But he felt he might lose a vital organ, a kidney, if he moved. He gave her his hand anyway. “We can harm; we can also heal.” Isaac saw the veins in her arms turn black and it quickly spread to the hand holding his. He tried to pull away but she wouldn’t let him. Her nails dug into his skin a little bit, and suddenly the veins in his own arms turned black. “Now, if you do this without puncturing the skin, you can also take pain away for humans. Though I don’t recommend it. They tend to freak out. Black blood and all.” Isaac felt himself healing faster than he has ever healed before. And instead of the soreness, the agony of each tendon, of each layer of tissue, reforming, he felt calm and warm. When she let his hand go, he was completely healed. He mumbled out a “thank you”. Then, after glancing at those still around them, he boldly asked if he could leave too, not leave the Pack, but just to go. Knowing full well where he was headed, she gave him a condition before she let him go. He took one last look at Ethan and ran.

 

Erica’s first thought, as she ran, was to go to her Derek. But she didn’t even know where the hell he was. Also, given what she had just witnessed, given what the people who her Derek had let into the house, what was suppose to be _their_ home, had done, she didn’t think she could face him anyway. She didn’t want to. She couldn’t go to her house, she couldn’t deal with being questioned as to where she had been, what she had been doing, why she has large cuts on her arms and blood all over her shirt. She needed to be somewhere where she felt safe, and where she would be instantly understood. 

Soon enough, she was in front of such a place. She knocked on the door. It opened. 

“Hell... what...”

“May I come in?”

“Why yes, of course.” Sheriff Stilinski said, he stood back so Erica could enter his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s late. I’m tired. Sorry if there are a lot of typos towards the end. If there is time tomorrow, this week, I’ll take a second pass at it. 
> 
> If you missed the oneshot of explicit sex between Scott and Isaac, click the Teen Wolfish link at the top of the fic (and right under this message) that annouces it’s part one of the series.


	11. Alpha Potential

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an attack. Some confrontation. It's basically Scott trying not to kill anybody. It's basically set up for the next chapter.

Jackson Whittemore pulled on his bathrobe with shaky hands. He didn’t believe it was possible, but somehow, his life had gone from bad to worse. As soon as he started taking a proactive role in his life again, as soon as things came within a mile of normal, such as his girlfriend still wanting to be with him, life had to throw a new nightmarish scenario at him. This time, he hadn’t killed anyone. Instead, the guy who made him into a killer had decided to break into his room and drop word bombs. He thought he was just going to get another “You need me; join my pack; lone wolf people can’t make it on their own” speech, but this was much worse. First, he got yelled at (in a soft voice, but it was still scary) and his body was slammed against the wall when he smelled what he had done to Lydia (at least, that’s the reason he gave). And then he got slapped across the back of his head for thinking he could turn her. Apparently, only an “Alpha” can do that. Funny how he has spent all this time pretending to be part of a group that hunts this type of people, wolf people, and he still knows so little about them. 

When he thought the scariest part of the visit was over, when the intimating behavior stopped and he was allowed to sit on his own bed, he told him about the Alpha Pack. Now to be fair, he wasn’t completely in the dark about their existence, after all, Lydia and their friends did fight a couple of them about a week or two ago. He then asked Derek, what was apparently, the key question. He asked what it was they, the Alpha Pack, wanted. The answer, in a word, was Jackson (or “you”). They were choosing a new Alpha or sole leader in Beacon Hills (for instance, Derek can still be chosen). There would be one and all other wolves would be in this wolf person’s pack. It meant he would have to either join a pack or die. 

He asked if leaving town was an option. It’s not. In fact, Derek said he was the last person who could ever leave Beacon Hills because of his volatile reputation (wounds meet salt). The hunters in town may be unwilling to harm him; he won’t be so lucky elsewhere. The Alpha Pack came to town to fix the Omega problem; which only told Jackson that he wasn’t the only one that didn’t want anything to do with this whole “Pack” thing. Derek then said that whether he liked it or not, he was part of a larger community. 

The entire encounter was beyond intense.

For Derek, it was tedious and boring. He didn’t want to explain an ongoing plot arc, not this early in the morning and not to his default Beta. The amount of fear, distrust and dislike that always comes off this kid is downright nauseating. However, while on a food run this morning his Uncle Peter appeared. IT IS DANGEROUS TO TRUST HIM. BE VIGILANT, which isn’t the first time he thought that about his uncle. The early morning pop-up had just made him edgier. The older man complained about being a messenger boy and some stuff that Derek honestly tuned out. The point was that his uncle had decided to lean against his car to say that Derek was being ordered by the “Pack” to go see where Omega 2, or Jackson, stood on this whole Alpha Selection thing so far. And it would be kind of hard to get that kind of information when the kid would have no idea what he was talking about. Thus, the Alpha story-line recap. 

Derek told his uncle to just call next time. BATTERIES! Crap, he really didn’t want to go back to the store. It didn’t help that he had spent the entire night surveillancing/breaking into the police station (the moon gave him the need to do something, anything) in order to get more information on any new animal attacks in the area and check if he and his uncle really were the only registered wolf people in town that they have on file. He knew he was digging himself deeper in a hole the longer he held off from registering his Betas, but he couldn’t stand the thought of any of them going through the kind of discrimination he had to, especially after the Hale House fire, when everyone in town then knew about him. There’s also way too much paperwork to fill out.

After Derek left, Jackson tried to push the entire conversation from his mind. He tried again as he dragged his feet to the bathroom. Though he couldn’t help thinking how nice it would feel if he wasn’t afraid of this town’s current Alpha, or if he had just a little more power. Plus, he was clearly the only one out of the misfit wolf bunch (Reyes, McCall) that had any actual leadership skills. If there is going to be a new Alpha, it should be him. 

Unless, of course, it just makes him a more efficient killer. Decisions. Decisions.

Due to the morning Derek scare, there was now a new layer of sweat that he needed to wash from his body, along with last night’s mix of Lydia’s dried blood, tears, and the basic built up of grim from the whole day. He let out a long breath as he turned the water on. He wanted to wash his thoughts away. He wished to crawl back into bed, to shut out the world like he had been all week, before Isaac made a visit, or before Lydia did. Though at least Lydia was _by_ his side. Maybe she could even help him decide which Pack he should be in... or who the new Alpha should be... or whatever he was suppose to do. 

But he couldn’t stay in, stay at home; his morning visitor had poured cold water on that idea too. They (the Alpha Pack) wanted him to be in school with the other Betas (did he really have to be lumped into the same category as McCall?), Derek said that so far they have been spending their time just watching how the others (the Betas) interact and asking questions. The entire visit left him wanting to corner Isaac and demand answers to the river of questions he now had. He didn’t understand why he needed to be involved in any of this. Derek Hale was his Alpha, or whatever. He saw no reason for that to change or why it needed to change, or why he needed to be involved in this changing process. His relationship with Derek, or lack there of, worked just fine for him. Plus, he hadn’t even... he didn’t even want to be a wolf, so he didn’t care who the Alpha or his Alpha was or is, just as long as it meant he would continue to be left alone. He didn’t want to have to start attending Pack Meetings or anything moronic like that. So there, problem solved: He’ll vote for Derek, or whatever he’s suppose to do. 

And maybe one day, after enough training, he’ll feel ready to take up an Alpha position himself, however that happens.

So water can’t actually wash thoughts away. If anything, it makes it easier for his body to go on auto-pilot as he mind swam with thoughts of Betas, Alphas, his Alpha, and his place in everything. Water also can’t flow slowly upwards, in the way the water in front of his eyes, on the shower wall, was. A stream of water can not glide up a person’s leg. It can not slither up a thigh, over a waist, onto a chest, around a neck, through a person’s frantic hands and into his mouth. Yet, this is exactly what the water did to Jackson. He tried to spit the hard water out. He tried to throw it up. It filled his throat and nose; he could feel it’s weighted coolness in his chest. He tried to scream. He tried to breathe. The water got darker; it was almost black in color. It didn’t taste or feel or smell any different. He stumbled out of the shower, landing on his hands and knees. He needed to get to the door, to Lydia. He began to feel lightheaded. He started to hear voices. A voice. Then he didn’t hear, taste, or feel anything at all. 

 

Scott’s head was filled with images of giant lizards on a plane that he and Stiles had to battle with machetes. Then there was a loud beeping sound. From the cockpit? The sound woke him up and he recognized the sound currently belonging to his alarm clock. He woke up grinning. It had been an epic dream. He closed his eyes again and took a few moments to recall as much of the dream as he could. He wanted to be able to tell Stiles everything. He tried to remember what had happened. The last thing he could clearly remember, before Mr. Harris had his head bitten off...was that he had been looking for the plane’s bathroom and before all that... the beeping was distracting. He turned to deal with that and he almost bumped into Isaac Lahey’s (MATE! SEX) back. Those are some sharp senses you got there, Scotty. His surprise morning visitor was pressing various buttons on his alarm clock. 

“Hit the one that says “alarm”. Silence followed Scott’s instruction. “And hi.”

“Good morning.” Isaac turned his head and looked down at him. He didn’t look like he was having a good morning. Or had had a good night. A sleepy smile disappeared from Scott’s face. “I hope you don’t mind, I used your phone to check my messages.” Something is off... DANGER? Your guess is as good as... Scotty, stop talking to yourself. What was... phone messages.

“Oh that’s fine, Isaac, really.” However, these words weren’t the cure to his boyfriend’s morning blues. Maybe he wasn’t a morning person. Scott sure wasn’t. Although, his outlook on this time of day could change with the addition of his Isaac. “Wait, you know your voicemail number? I just press “ok”.”

“It became a habit after Camden left for the army. In case he called.”

“Oh.” 

“Anyway, I checked them. Were you being serious?”

“Isaac, I just woke up, you need to use more words.”

“Were you being serious when you asked me to move in with you?”

“Of course... isn’t that why you’re here?” Seconds after he asked it, Scott realized how foolish his question was and he didn’t want to hear the real answer just yet. He wanted to live in this drama free moment for just a little longer, one where he had this epic dream to tell and a hot guy in his bed, who he had permission to kiss, (SEX) and that, and where his only concern was how bad his breath was on a scale of stale toothpaste to sun baked roadkill. 

“I just checked my messages.” 

“Right, so you hungry? I’m starving. Let’s continue this conversation downstairs.” Scott rolled out of bed. Now that he was more awake though, he couldn’t ignore the amount of fear and guilt coming off of his boyfriend. Isaac didn’t move much, he turned his head to face his lap, his back was still to Scott. 

“Boyd is... they killed Boyd.” Even with Isaac’s physical and sensation loaded display of impeding bad news, Scott was not prepared to hear that. He sure, as hell, couldn’t comprehend it. He understood the meaning of every word, of the concept itself, but all together it made no god damn sense. Isaac turned to catch his reaction. And boy, did Scott have a reaction to give.

His arms flew up, “What? What do you mean they killed Boyd? Who? How? Why? Does Derek know? What happened? Where was Derek? Are you okay? Is Erica?” Fifteen minutes later, after he knew everything Isaac did, Scott still had a hard time acknowledging the event. It was like when his parents told him they were getting a divorce or when he took Stiles seriously about being a wolf person. He understood the words, but what they actually meant, how those words would affect his world, weren’t understood until much later on; when cardboard boxes with his Dad’s name on them showed up in the hallway and when he saw a trapped Isaac in the basement of Hale House. He understood that Boyd had just been murdered. It just didn’t feel true. It can’t be.

It began to feel a little true when they eventually got to school, albeit thirty minutes late. Neither boy had been motivated to go to school and Scott’s bike wasn’t really made for two. The only silver lining to the whole morning was when Isaac also announced that he wanted to live with Scott (now Scott really needs to ask and discuss this with his mother). The only condition was that Isaac would still need to check in with Derek daily. Scott made sure to point out that such a thing could be done over the phone, and no, that wasn’t jealousy that Isaac had smelled. Isaac didn’t believe him. Isaac also said he thought Scott had Alpha potential, back when they were talking about the Alpha Pack. Scott wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Alpha potential. On the one hand, that felt right. It felt inevitable. He wasn’t going to submit to Peter or be in Derek’s pack. He wasn’t going to leave Isaac alone. And he wasn’t going to stop caring about Erica or B-...about Erica. On the other hand, he didn’t know any Alphas who weren’t murderers or had murder potential. He wondered if there was a way to become an Alpha without killing for it. Or worse, if becoming an Alpha also meant becoming a killer. Perhaps “Alpha” just meant a stage in which the wolf becomes stronger, faster, and more blood thirsty. He can still easily recall the bloody scene in Jackson’s room after he had attacked him. His current level and range of abilities can sometimes still scare him. Did he really want to become stronger? Did he really want the wolf to become stronger? 

No, that didn’t sound like a good idea. However, given current circumstances, he may have no choice in the future. PROTECT. Of course, it would be easier, he wouldn’t have to worry, if Derek was better at his job, better at his life. Peter too.

Scott could be a better Alpha. He shook that thought when Isaac gripped his hand and gave him a questioning stare. He shook his head again. These were not thoughts he wanted to share. Isaac let him go when he got to his locker. Scott remained and waited, wanting to delay the moment of inevitable separation which would come with the attending of their first classes. 

Scott played with the idea of grabbing Isaac and taking the day off. It wasn’t like he was really going to be focusing on his school work today. He changed his mind, however, when he saw Stiles down the hall. He didn’t need his hyper senses to know his best friend had something heavy on his mind. Knowing that his best friend should also be in class by now was another clue. As soon as Isaac shut his locker door, Scott tugged him along by his wrist. 

“Scott, my class is the other way.” Isaac pointed out, but he didn’t put up any physical resistance.

“I know. Hold on.” DANGER. PACK. PROTECT. Calm down, it might not be wolf related. 

It was wolf related. 

Stiles had heard about Boyd (AVENGE!). Erica (PACK) had told him. And the truth about Boyd sunk in a little more. The wolf was agitated, or bloodthirsty, so Scott took deep breaths. He was in control. He is in control. Think about Boyd later, it’s too much now. The moon makes everything too much now. Everything makes everything too much now. What is with all the murder!

REVENGE! 

Scott dented a locker. Stile’s hand on his back made him unclench his fists. Isaac (PROTECT) had left during the exchange of information and, now, Scott felt like the most insensitive boyfriend in the world. There was a reason Boyd’s murder wasn’t the first thing Isaac had mentioned that morning.

Stiles grabbed his attention, “Is any of this okay? What did Derek have to say?”

“I don’t know, he wasn’t there, Isaac hasn’t seen him. And I don’t think we should bring up Boyd around Isaac from now on. And anyway, we don’t need Derek to figure out what happened.”

“It’s because Boyd tried to leave-”

“And I don’t think they were in complete control last night, the Alpha Pack. And I think it has to do with the full moon tonight. Isaac said he didn’t even know Boyd was trying to leave Beacon Hills. Again.”

“Really? Cause Erica told me the whole house heard him ask her to leave with him.”

“Regardless, I want to hear from them what happened.”

“Okay, great, do you have their phone numbers?”

“We’re going to Hale House after school.”

“Funny, it sounds to me like you actually want to go to a house filled with literal lunatics? So please, assure me that this is just the hairier side of your consciousness speaking?”

“Yes. And no. It’s me and I need to know if they really had planned to killed Boyd. They both tried to run away when they first got here and all they did was capture them.” 

“True, but then they said-”

“I need to know that while they are trying to help us, we don’t have to worry about them maybe killing us too. If my Isaac is going to keep going there, then I need to protect him and know that he’s safe.”

“So basically, I should just disregard most of that and conclude we’re going because of your moon enhanced love for Isaac, gotcha.”

“What? No. Didn’t you hear anything I just said?” It took a few more words played out over the course of their next class, but Scott eventually convinced Stiles that they should and needed go to Hale House. Really, all it took was to temporally uninvite Stiles to go and then let the boy’s deadly curiosity do the rest. Oddly enough, after he got Stiles on board with his scheme, he then had to convince himself it was a good idea. The plan hadn’t even crossed his mind until he had stated it to Stiles. It had to be the moon. As soon as he saw his Isaac leave with his head down, he felt this huge, all caps, need to protect him. And the idea just slipped in after. For all he knew, he and Stiles would be driving to their deaths after school today. 

It may have been mentioned that he and Stiles tend to do a lot of stupid stuff together, it was sort of comforting to know that being changed into a wolf person hadn’t changed that. Kind of comforting. 

Scott sat upright just as the teacher turned around. He hoped there would be no questions asked, he wasn’t even sure what section they were on. His notes were two days old. He thought back to yesterday and what could have occupied... Isaac smelled like the Jackson yesterday. He has to talk to Isaac about that. He’d be a complete asshole if he did it today. But he would soon. Oh yes. He’d like to have a talk with Jackson too. A viole-

He teacher stared right at him. WHAT? Oh crap. Calm. Thankfully, the teacher then turned his gaze to someone behind him. He called on Danny. Scott was about to go back into his world where he was rehearsing what he would say, what he would do, once he saw Jackson, but the teacher’s words pulled him back out. He was telling Danny that if his best friend (Jackson) missed one more class, he would have to repeat it. JACKSON.

“Why don’t you tell him yourself.” Words that could land a person in detention. In fact, that looked to be the next words out of their teacher’s mouth except he saw Danny’s gaze was looking at a particular spot behind him, in fact, every student’s gaze was. Behind the teacher, by the doorway, was Jackson Whittemore. THREATEN. He was smiling, but he looked nervous and anxious. Scott could smell the fear. That’s right, you should fear me. 

The teacher, despite what he had just said, greeted Jackson kindly. Everyone knew, thanks to camera footage and word of mouth, that Jackson had been the last person to see Jason, the Senior, alive and was the first person to see him dead. Though, unfortunately, the events in-between were found to be “inconclusive” which Stiles had said was just police speak for “the tape was fuzzy” or “we got no clue what happened” both fit this particular case. 

As Jackson came closer, Scott could tell that the fear wasn’t directed at him. This made the rage he felt diminish somewhat. The frightened guy sat behind Stiles, who was sitting next to Scott, who was waiting for the teacher to turn around again so he could gaze at Jackson. Something was wrong, very wrong, that level of fear... the only thing Scott could think of was perhaps Jackson had had his own run in with the Alpha Pack. Maybe they weren’t going after runaways. Maybe they were going after Omegas. Maybe he was next! PROTECT PACK. Fuck, Pack, protect yourself!

“Hey, left and right testicle,” Scott jumped at the “hey”, he silently fumed at the rest. However, things couldn’t be so bad if Jackson still found the nerve to insult them. So smashing his head against a locker could still happen. “What do you idiots know about magic water?” Postpone head smashing. Stiles and Scott turned to him. 

“Is that why you’re scared?” Scott asked.

“What? No.”

“What do you mean “magic water”... wait, do you mean whatever attacked Jason? You saw it?” Stiles wanted to know.

“Are you okay?” Scott wanted to know first, now that he was really looking at Jackson.

“Oh yeah, you don’t look so good, man.” Stiles added. They had to all be silent when the teacher turned around to address the class. Through a series of well timed text messages, mostly between Scott and Jackson, though Stiles sent a bunch to Scott that mainly said “what’s going on” in a bunch of different ways. Jackson typed of getting attacked in the shower this morning by water. By black water, but still water, not slimy water, or spongy water, or hair filled water, or water in the shape of a person or a monster, just water. Gross water.

“It was just water!” he hissed out when Scott had typed if the water had said anything before it attacked. 

““Just water” doesn’t try to kill people, Jackson.” Scott pointed out. “And you said it was black?”

“Yeah, but it didn’t start turning black until after it was trying to drown me. Everything else was the same.”

“Dude, how bad is your plumbing, on average?” Stiles asked. 

“You don’t believe me?”

“We believe you.” At this point, Scott’s brain was ready to believe the moon was made of cheese. 

“Even though it is suspicious that you’ve been around the two times this thing has attacked.” Stiles added.

“You think I have something to do with this!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Maybe you’re not behind it,” Scott tried to appease, “but maybe it is after you, just you.”

“Me? Why?” 

“Why not?” Stiles asked. Stiles was being more annoying than usual. And by now they all had gained the attention of the students around them. 

“It is very rude to speak while others are speaking, boys, so do you think you can hold off on your discussion until after class?”

“Actually, would you mind if we took it out to the hall?” Stiles honestly asked. Or at least Scott hoped he was being honest because he really liked the idea. 

“Yes, I would mind.” A few more text messages were exchanged, though Jackson didn’t have much else to add to his story. Stiles brought up the good question of if it was possible that the Alpha Pack and the water thing were somehow related. After all, they can magically (due to biology) heal, and grow and ungrow hair, maybe they had control over water too. These days, anything is possible.

A much lighter topic was needed by lunch time. He had agreed they should look into this water thing for, maybe with, Jackson. Maybe go to Jackson’s house sometime, or at least, visit the school’s pool. Maybe this thing originated from there and had somehow “latched” onto Jackson as he left the school that day. 

Though still annoying, Stiles had some great theories. In all honesty, Scott was still too focused on the Alpha Pack and Boyd to care too much about Jackson and his killer water problems. And darker side was slightly disappointed that Jackson hadn’t died. Yeah, new thought....

“So, you and Erica, huh?” He asked his fellow, deep in thought, best friend. 

“Me and Erica, what?” Scott looked his best friend up and down. He hadn’t known Stiles was Erica’s type. Then again, he’s never thought of Stiles from the perspective of attraction. He has nice eyes.

“Well, Isaac came to me, and we all know how he feels about me.” And where was his lovely boyfriend? He hadn’t seen him in the hallway to lunch, and he has yet to enter the lunch room. Should he be worried? PROTECT. 

“Scott, if you try to turn this into a conversation about you and Isaac and sex, again, I swear I’m gonna rip my ears off and send them to the Alpha Pack as an appetizer, okay?”

“It finally happened, you know. It.”

“Yes, I did receive that text message. And the voice message.” It’s not like he had bragged on the messages or anything, he had just been... excited.

“Sorry. it’s just... you’ll understand if you and Erica start dating.”

“And that would be great, and hot, but really, it’s not like that between me and her. She said she wanted to be as far away from wolf people as she could and, you know, I guess I’m the only human friend she has. Not the most ideal trait I want to have to attract women, but I’ll take it.”

“You’re wrong.” Isaac said as he sat down at their table, next to Scott.

“Come again?” Stiles inwardly cursed the enhanced hearing that had blatantly been used. He needs to be more careful with his words whenever Isaac was anywhere near them. Not that he tends to pour his heart out in school, he just doesn’t think Isaac will ever appreciate Stiles insulting his Alpha. Or all the times he has said lecherous things about Lydia Martin’s body. Or the time he told Scott that if he ever had sex before him, he better paint him a damn picture, because Scott might have “it” first (he was right about that), but Stiles planned to be great at sex... oh god, no wonder Boyd had stared in a creepy fashion at him while he was stealing his lunch money that day. Damn enhanced hearing. And that had been last year!

 

“Erica does like you, but you didn’t hear that from me.” Isaac explained. 

“And when you say “like”...?” Scott’s hand moved to Isaac’s knee. Stiles waved his spoon to keep Isaac’s attention on him. 

“Her heart beats faster at just the mention of your name... actually...”

“Actually?”

“Never mind.” Urggg. Discontinued thoughts were such a pet peeve for Stiles. Just say it anyway, no matter how stupid-

They all heard the howl. No enhanced hearing needed to hear it. Stiles didn’t need to be a wolf person to hear the sadness in it either. Though he did need it in order to know what Scott knew. 

“Derek.” Scott identified. Isaac nodded.

“He found out about Boyd.” Isaac concluded. “I should go.” Isaac stood up, the reaction was expected. Scott also getting up, should have been expected also. “Stay.” He directed at his boyfriend. 

“You are not going there alone.” Was the response he got. Stiles reluctantly stood up as well. He wondered if wolf sex created some kind of mental connection, or if Scott’s obvious hero complex really was that obvious. It was one thing to plan to visit Hale House later that day, but now that the hour may be upon them, Stiles wanted to reconsider. For instance, shouldn’t they consider whether or not Derek had howled out of sadness or pain, or if it is really wise or even a good, fruitful, semi-sane idea to go to the site where their friend and favorite bully was recently killed. Anyone?

He was reluctant, but he wasn’t rebellious. He followed the other two as they squabbled over whether or not Scott and/or Stiles should even be going. They would most likely continue to argue about the issue all the way to Stiles’s jeep. However, they all had to stop moving, and talking when, outside of the school, and standing a few vehicles away from Stiles’s jeep, was Erica. 

She asked them if she could hitch a ride; she looked at Stiles as she spoke. It struck Stiles then, just how quickly Erica Reyes, who had once been just a familiar name, had embedded herself into his and Scott’s lives and how her current friend status didn’t feel at all odd. It felt strangely right. He was also reminded of his earlier, last night thinking, of how he should have been freaked out at the sight of a female wolf person sleeping in his bed. He had been relocated to the floor. Even if the wolf factor was taken out, it still left an attractive female in his bed. Erica Reyes slept very beautifully. She was no Lydia Martin, but her assets were marvelous in their own way. 

Stiles made sure to keep his gaze at eye level as he told Erica, “The more, the merrier.” Though he wondered why she, or any of his fanged friends, didn’t just run to Hale House. It would probably be quicker. 

The car ride to Hale House was tense to say the least. To say the most, it was kind of an uneasy silence that can be felt on the way to visiting a loved one in the hospital, a feeling Stiles knows well, or the moment after your parent has yelled at you in front of your friends, and now you’re left with your friends. Stiles kept his eyes on the road.

The tension looked worse for Scott, he kept trying to touch Isaac as they sat together in the back seat. He tried to hold his hand, or touch his knee; a hair brush here, a shirt adjustment there. And Isaac would push him away each time. To the causal observer, they both looked fidgety, distracted; perhaps nervous about the encounter that awaits them, but Stiles felt there was more of a wolf related reason behind it. A more Scott and Isaac related reason. Like peeing on a tree, but with hands.

Scott was at a loss. He had no idea what to do. He wanted to comfort Isaac, to reassure him everything would be okay. He wanted to do something to calm his boyfriend’s currently elevated heart rate, his quickened breathing. Clearly, his boyfriend didn’t want to be touched at the moment, but Scott couldn’t help it. Isaac smelled like unease and something else... guilt maybe... though at this point he couldn’t tell if he was feeling his own guilt for... whatever his has done wrong or for not being able to rightly help Isaac. Or if he was only smelling Isaac’s guilt. 

“It’s not your fault.” maybe words will work.

“Excuse me?”

“You couldn’t have done anything last night, I’m just saying.” 

“Can we not talk about that.” Erica suddenly snapped from the passenger seat. Things got quiet again. Though this time, Scott also kept his hands to himself. It was understandably the longest ride to Hale House Scott has ever experienced. And it was slightly more nerve-wracking than when he had been kidnapped by Derek. It didn’t help that, due to everyone in town knowing Stiles’s car and the direct number to his dad, that they had to go the two and a half hour long way to even get to the house. Since, you know, they were technically skipping the last half of their school day.

When they pulled up to the house, Scott wondered something his has wondered many times: did Derek, or maybe the Alphas in general, have some type of psychic ability? Or did Derek spend his livelihood following a certain group of high schoolers around? The mentioned man stood a few paces away, from where Stiles parked the jeep, with his arms crossed. He was forced to uncross his arms when Erica hopped out of the jeep and threw her own arms around his neck. He gave a small hug back. The act wasn’t totally unexpected, though it was outright weird to see Derek hugging anyone. In Scott’s mind, his black blood brother tended to show affection by reminding a person that he or she would die without his aid. Scott also tried to not feel bothered when Isaac laid his hand on Derek’s shoulder and the Alpha returned the gesture. Oh, so _he_ can touch Isaac. If Scott became an Alp- don’t go there. 

After the greetings and reassurances that everyone was okay, they entered the house. It was eerily quiet for a place that was currently housing five extra guests. It was also a mess. Hale House, since the fire, had never been the picture of a tidy home, but at least most of the furniture that remained had been standing upright and in logical locations. There had been a few solid, whole walls still erect, some even had pictures. It now looked like a tornado had recently gone through the burnt-out home. Though a specific animal was behind the new claw marks that were ripped into the walls, floors, and the couch. 

“What happened in here?” Isaac wondered out loud for all of them. 

“I did.” Was Derek’s gruff response. So their earlier assumption had been correct; Derek just found out about Boyd. “Come on, we’ll talk upstairs.” They didn’t run in to anyone on the way up and Scott couldn’t smell or hear any others, besides the people with him, though the whole house did smell of Hales, of Derek and Peter. He wouldn’t be surprised if his ex-Alpha popped out from some dark corner. 

They were led upstairs and into a spacious room with two mattresses and blankets and backpacks and scattered teenaged belongings like textbooks, snack bags and various items of clothing. From the look of it, this was Erica and Isaac’s room. It also smelled like Boyd, which would explain why, despite the chill outside or the fact that a large percentage of the house was still open to the elements and therefore there was also a chill inside, that Erica opened the window on the far side of the room. 

The original plan had been to come here to demand answers. Derek asked the first question.

“I want to hear what happened last night.” It was sort of a question. 

“Didn’t they tell you?” Was a real question from Isaac. He and Erica were the furthest in the room. Derek hovered by one side of the doorway and Scott stood by the other. Stiles was so close to him that he could easily mistake his best friend’s slight feeling of freight for his own.

“I want to hear it from you.” 

“Where were you?” Erica cut in. She meant last night. Derek looked around at his audience before answering.

“Out. Preparing for the full moon tonight.” That threw some things back into perspective. As horrible as the events of last night had been, tonight had the potential to be much worse. 

“Did what happened last night have to do with the full moon?” Scott asked. It took a few seconds for Derek to come up with an answer. 

“They’re Alphas, they are not as greatly affected by the moon... or at least, they have more control over everything that is heightened by it.” Was the horrific answer he came up with. Wonderful. So what happened last night wasn’t influenced by the mystic pull of the moon. There was no primal, sometimes violent, drive interfering with more humane decision making processes, and enabling the more feral actions instead. Werewolves, wolf people, whatever, didn’t kill Boyd, humans did. 

“So, they actually have no qualms about killing any of us then.” Stiles had reached the same conclusion Scott did. “Wonderful, say, why don’t we continue this little discussion in a place not currently occupied by homicidal maniacs with claws. Who’s with me?” Stiles raised his hand and looked around the room. Scott raised his hand as well. “And why is my name near a sleeping bag?” Stiles dropped his hand and walked over to a rolled up sleeping bag that was placed next to one of the mattresses. Scott saw his friend’s name taped on the wall on a piece of paper and in foam letters. He also saw his own name above the mattress next to it. 

“Unfortunately, it means you are being seen as a part of Scott’s pack. Though ordinary humans within packs are not unheard of, it’s usually reserved for family members and significant others.” Derek explained as if he was blaming Stiles for purposely breaking some sacred wolf law. Though technically, he was an EH too.

“Ordinary” was the only word Stiles picked up on. Scott was busy staring at his own name. It didn’t indicate that he was expected to be sleeping here now, otherwise someone would have told him about it. It meant much worse. It was a reminder that after this whole “Alpha Selection” process was over, this room was expected to be his resting place. It meant the decision may already be in a Hales’ favor. Though he personally didn’t support either choice, Derek seems to be the lesser of two evils. At least he was here.

He also really liked that the bed designated for him smelled distinctly of Isaac.

“I don’t care who they pick for Alpha; I won’t be a part of Peter’s pack.” Scott was shocked by how strongly he felt about it as he said it. Maybe it was the moon, but he suddenly felt like punching Peter in the face. He felt like killing the other Alphas, especially whichever one killed Boyd. KILL. PROTECT. Both good ideas. Though at this point he didn’t know if he would be protecting his pack from rabid wolves or deadly magic water. 

“You might not have to be, if you are chosen as the Alpha.” A voice belonging to someone not yet in the room sounded. DANGER. KILL. Then the face and body of Ethan appeared. He was flanked by his bigger twin, Aidan. Stiles stepped closer to Scott again and Erica moved away from the window and closer to Isaac. Even Derek stood up straighter. “Which is very likely considering you already have half of the Betas on your side.” He then pointed to Stiles, “More than half if we include him.”

“My Betas are loyal to me.” Derek ground out. Even Scott, who wasn’t in his pack, knew the statement was a bit of a reach, considering why Boyd was killed. KILL. YES.

“Oh really?” Ethan didn’t buy it either. “Is that why your little flock ran to the shelter of Scott and his pack last night? And correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you even specifically tell that one to stay away from Scott while we are here?” Oh yeah, Scott could vaguely remember Isaac mentioning something along those lines... KILL. NOW. DANGER. Let’s just see how this plays out, okay? Then I’ll throw the mattress at them.

“I hadn’t planned to go to Scott’s, I just..” Isaac hurriedly began. 

“Isaac, it’s okay.” Derek assured him. He wasn’t going to let this ass-hat manipulate his pack. 

“Right, no need to worry just yet, Isaac, we’re currently more concerned with where any loyalty lies for the remaining two Omegas, for the time being.” Ethan explained. 

“Me and...” Scott started.

“Jackson.” Derek finished. The news seemed shocking to Scott at first, but then the words “omega” and “Jackson” crossed his mind again. He already knew this? How? When? 

“Is there anyone under the age of eighteen, you haven’t tried to turn, Derek. I’m sure the murderous Alpha Pack would like to know too.” Stiles bravely, and foolishly, spoke. 

“Would you like it if I turned _you_ into a wolf, I’ll try not to be too rough.” 

“Somehow I doubt that.” Didn’t Isaac say something about Jackson? He had visited his house... didn’t Kali refer to him as Omega 2... was there a 3 or 4... and why did everything come back to Jackson?

KILL NOW. Well.. a loud buzzing sound interrupted his train of thought and kept himself from shifting into wolf form. It interrupted everything. Everyone looked over at Stiles, except Stiles, who’s average ears were still looking for the source of the sound. Eventually, he got to where everyone else was and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Sorry.” Then he paused before pressing the call button. The caller ID read “Lydia Martin”.


	12. Confronting Killers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same day as chapter 11. There is graphic violence, brief nudity, well, not that brief, and a shocking confession (though you already knew about it, though you may have forgotten)! And people die.

_Chris wasn’t sure why he was going to do what he was about to do. The way he had left things with Margret, the way she had walked away after hearing his “enemy” line, hadn’t felt right. He didn’t see her again until after school, where she was on her way to the back of the school, where a soccer game was being held. She wasn’t alone; she was walking with Talia Hale, a women who had graduated three years ago and was Peter Hale’s older sister and, if he was remember his “Hale facts” right, Margret’s cousin. There was also a little girl with them, she couldn’t have been more than three years old. And either Talia Hale had really let herself go since marriage, or she was expecting another child. None of these facts helped Chris come up with a way to get Margret by herself so they could talk._

_As fate would have it, he didn’t need a plan. As the ladies neared the field, the little girl stopped and held her stomach. As Chris got closer, he heard was that, no, she wanted mommy to go, no a fence._

_“Really, it’s makes no difference, whether I take you or your Auntie M takes you.”_

_“But you need to help me wipe my butt.”_

_“No, no I don’t, you’re a big girl.”_

_“No, I’m not. I’m a baby.”_

_“Laura.” Chris grinned, children are so precious. Though, now he hopes his first kid is a boy. Talia and the little girl, Laura turned back around and started coming his way._

_As they passed, Talia said, “Tread lightly, Argent.” she glanced back to show what, or rather, who, she meant._

_“I’m not going to hurt her.”_

_“It’s not her I’m worried about.” They continued walking their separating ways. He stood right next to Margret as she looked out at the field. He knew that she knew he was there, and she was blatantly ignoring him._

_“I’m sorry, for what I said earlier.” he started._

_“You sure you want to be this close to the enemy.”_

_“The enemy, no, but a friend-”_

_“OH, we’re friends now?” That got her to, at least, look in his direction._

_“I’d like us to be.”_

_“Get real.”_

_“You can tell if I’m lying, can’t you.” She was silent for a moment, then she turned towards him fully._

_“Why, why me? To keep an eye on my family?”_

_“This has nothing to do with your family... or maybe it does... it’s just...” Chris looked out at the field. It was all coming together for him, though he hesitated at the mere idea of being that honest, of saying that out loud. Did he really trust this girl?_

_“Just what?”_

_“Just... even though I still fully believe in the basic code my family lives by concerning your kind, well, the dangerous versions of your kind, I’m tired of always following the daily list of rules and commands that dictate my everyday life. Keep an eye out for this and practice shooting that and look out for signs of this and don’t talk to that-”_

_“To that?”_

_“You catch my drift, it doesn’t even have to do with wolf people; everything is monitored. They’re always telling me what to do and how to do it and when to do it, and just yesterday they told me who I’m suppose to marry, isn’t that mad insane?” There, it’s out. And who better to recap the woes of his crazy life to than to someone who most likely is living an even crazier life. She might relate._

_“Arranged marriages, really? And I thought my family was selective. She is... do you like her?”_

_“I haven’t officially met her yet... but I have her picture.” Chris pulled out a picture he had looked at and studied so many times in the past twenty-four hours it already had multiple well worn creases in it. He handed the photo over._

_“Whoa, hello, murder eyes.”_

_“What?... You know, most people say she’s pretty.” Chris smirked as he took the picture back._

_“Oh, for sure, but I’m not like most people.”_

_“I know, it’s what I like about you.” Margret shifted from one foot to the other. There was totally no way she had heard him correctly._

_“You... like that I’m a wolf? What kind of mental hunter are you even?”_

_“I didn’t say that.”_

_“Then what are you -” Margret could hear her cousin and second cousin coming back. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you should bounce.” Chris saw her glance behind them. He nodded, leaving his eyes to communicate a goodbye._

 

Chris Argent lets out a slow, mostly steady breath as he picks up the next plate to wash. He tries not to, but within every moment he has to himself, his mind brings up an image of Victoria. Usually it is of the days before they had Allison, back when they first met. Kate, at the rambunctious age of five... or six, had loved Victoria from the moment she saw her. His dad did too. His mother gave him a very awkward birds and the bees speech shortly after, so he always figured she approved also. 

He tried to cook for her for their first date. He borrowed one of his Dad’s recipes and everything. It came out as one might expect for a novice chief who had no idea various ingredients needed to be cooked with various degrees of heat (or what “preheating” meant). The Chinese food they ordered after that “meal” was excellent in comparison. 

Movement outside made Chris pause in his memories; they faded as he walked over and looked out the curtained window on the back door. Allison shouldn’t be outside, not when he had heard her go upstairs after dinner. However, he is fairly certain he just saw someone... there it was again, movement, with the corner of his eye he saw her; it looked like a her. To be perfectly honest, it looked like Victoria. By the time his eyes brought that particular area into focus, there was nothing but his empty yard to see. He really needed to get some sleep. Even if it was early evening, he had had a total of two hours of sleep the night before.

“Dad?” He almost dropped the plate.

“Allison, what is it, Sweetie?” she looked like he had been the one to startle her.

“I know this is going to sound insane, but...”

“But what?” Allison looked pass her father to the window behind him, and he had an awful feeling he knew what she was going to say.

 

Jackson stepped into the gym locker room feeling more exhausted than he ever did after any practice for any of the sports he plays. Almost every teacher his has had kept him after school to do some kind of stupid intervention thing. They reminded him that his grades were slipping. And that they wanted to work out some kind of arrangement to make things better, to get Jackson back on the right track. Jackson just wanted to get the hell out of there. It took all of his will power to leave the classroom without killing any of his teachers. That meeting mixed with everything that had happened this morning... the attack in his shower, it left his too keyed up. Now, he just wanted to cool off. Literally cooling off usually did the trick. Also, he wanted to, needed to prove that the attack this morning did NOT make him develop a fear of water. Really it didn’t. 

So far, the cold water was doing nothing. And for whatever reason, it made him think of Isaac Lahey, which made him feel worse. His shook his head as he stayed under the water’s stream, but the feeling wasn’t going away. And the anger from before intensified. But it was slightly off. It felt deeper. It felt all consuming. He felt out of control, like during the tantrums he used to have shortly after he found out he was adopted. He laid his hand flat against the cool tile wall. His fingers felt as if they had caught on fire. Right before his eyes he saw these sharp pointed nails rip through his fingers. There was a sharp ache in his mouth... some of his teeth were growing. He caught on what was happening to him. And he needed to leave, to get out of there. He needed to before he completely lost control.

Or something else in him gained it.

 

Stiles had no idea what Lydia wanted or how she even got his number. He got the answer to both things when he pressed the green phone button. It took a couple of minutes to string together the shards of half complete thoughts that Lydia was yammering into his ear. The basic rundown was this: she got his number from his dad. She was with his dad. They were at the hospital. Her dad, not his, which almost became a panic fueled misunderstanding, was the injured one. He had been attacked, like Jackson, but at the kitchen sink. Stiles vowed then to stay away from all water sources. She said that Jackson said he and Scott would know something about what was going on. Thus, the current phone conversation. Right, he and Scott did say they would be researching that. He asked if Jackson had been anywhere near her dad when the water attacked. The answer was no, punching a hole in his theory that the murderous H2O was really after Jackson or, at least, following him. 

He would have to come up with more theories later (this also derailed his “it has to do with teenagers/Beacon Hills High students theory); right now he had six werewolves staring him down, listening to every word. Luckily, nerves have never made him tongue tied, though the room did feel warmer and he felt slightly out of breath. 

He doesn’t know where the idea came from, if it had to do with his current location or the current person he was talking to, but without checking with anyone (and he had given quite a few people a ride here), he told Lydia he would “be right there”. His brain had already reached a fork in his plan. Should he stop at home and see if any of his “borrowed” books would help? Or, should he just ask if the Hales had anything here? Or do both? Both it is. As long as they don’t offer Lydia’s dad any water, which she is probably supervising, he should be okay for now. 

“How is your dad doing?” Her response told Stiles that he had asked an extremely insensitive question and the phone conversation abruptly came to an end. When he hung up, he was grateful that his best friend was a werewolf; there was no need to explain anything.

“Let’s go.” Scott said. Best. Friend. Ever. 

“What about Boyd?” Erica demanded. Stiles didn’t know how to tactfully answer that. They had done everything they could do about Boyd; they had learned the truth about what had happened (and that dangerous stranger Alphas were indeed dangerous) therefor, there really wasn’t any reason for them to stick around here any longer. Truthfully, the whole thing could have been accomplished with a phone call to Derek. In the future and on a full moon day, Scott will not be allowed to make the plans.

“I’m sorry, really, but... we can’t help Boyd, but we can help Lydia and her dad.” Explained Scott. Erica didn’t look pleased with the answer, nor the next question.

“Which one of you is Boyd?” Aidan asked. 

“He was the big one from last night.” Ethan replied. Erica stepped forward, arms out by her side, palms out, fingers spread, eyes all aglow. 

“You can slaughter us without even remembering our names!”

“Actually, I was the one who, slaughtered, your boyfriend.” Ethan announced. Derek stepped up before Erica could leap forward. For a second, Stiles thought she was going to leap at him instead. 

“Enough.” Derek commanded. He was shorter than the twins, probably weaker too, but they obeyed anyway. Though that could have been due to the new person who entered the room; Margret. Boy, was it getting crowded in here. Ethan and Aidan had to move into the room further to let her enter, which shifted everyone, except for Derek, closer to the edges of the room. By now, Scott was able to get his (seconds earlier) desire to kill under control. His hero complex, in regards to Lydia’s phone call, seemed to have curbed that. 

That, and the growing knowledge that in order to kill the Alphas, he would have to fight them, something he was ~~terrified~~ reluctant to do.

“All right, children, enough with the dramatics, here is what will happen. The ordinary human will go help his friend. All Betas will follow me to the holding cells, and we’re all going to have a nice, quiet, full moon night. Understand?” Ethan and Aidan slowly nodded. 

“I’m going with Stiles.” Scott affirmed. Stiles felt like he should have a say in this. As much as he would like his best friend ever with him, the reminder of the full moon still outside, which would be seen a little more clearly once the sun sets in about three hours, made Margret’s idea sound better, wiser, safer. 

“Is that so?” Margret asked Scott. Plus, the sun had nothing to do with it, really, the scary, wolf related atrocities could happen at any time. Scott had proven that before. As he replayed that memory, he became even less thrilled at the notion of spending car time with any wolves, even his best friend. 

“Yes.” There was a bit of a growl in his friend’s voice. If that would indeed be the plan, then they would need to take Isaac along because he seriously didn’t have a bag of muffins on him. Then they would have to figure out what would keep Isaac human. Hopefully, it will also be food related.

“Fine, I’ll allow you to go, however, you won’t be allowed to go alone.” Stiles then wondered if they could even go to the hospital in their condition; he imagined the sick people looking like easy prey for his wolf friends. Well, they will have to wait in the car then.

Margret glanced and nodded at Ethan, who nodded back, stepped forward, and gave an devious smile towards Scott. They would be taking separate cars for this, right? There was no way he could make Ethan stay in the jeep. The was no way Stiles was going to BE in the same vehicle as Ethan.

“We’re taking separate cars for this, right?’ Stiles had to ask. 

“I’m going as well.” Isaac declared. That was a given, at least, Stiles thought so. 

“I see. In that case, Ethan, stay here. Derek, you watch over them.” 

“Why me?” Did Derek Hale just complain.... to his Auntie? Stiles so needed to use that somehow... some day, a day that isn’t today. 

“Because being an Alpha is more than just turning a few teenagers. You do still want to be _the_ Alpha, don’t you?” The conversation just keeps getting better. Stiles doesn’t know why he likes seeing Derek slightly humiliated. Yes he does; Derek still scares the crap out of him, and this makes Derek less frightening. 

The new Alphas left the room first. Margret beckoned for Erica to follow her. She also warned Aidan to stay away from Erica or she would remove his hands, if necessary. It made Stiles feel a little better about leaving Erica behind, though it was also her choice to do so. He didn’t need to be a wolf to sense that Erica was mad at them, or for whatever reason, she and Isaac trusted Margret (plus her look to Derek and his nod back probably factored into her decision). The trust was most likely due to Margret being related to their Alpha.... and just where was Peter in all this, anyway? The last time he was spotted was in the boys’ locker room yesterday morning. 

He was about to ask Scott, but decided it was better to just get out of the house first, and leave all the questions for the jeep, when he may need something to distract a half pack of wolves from shifting. Again, they should be using separate cars for this. As they left the house, he even suggested that all the wolves go in Derek’s car and he’ll follow. 

“It’s safer if we’re in the same car.” Derek pointed out. 

“Safer for who?” Derek said nothing, but walked straight to Stiles’s jeep. Great, thanks to his aunt, Derek was going to be in super leader/ I - decide - everything mode. When the others followed, Stiles wanted to snap at Scott, remind him that he wasn’t even Derek’s Beta. Remind him that they were a pack of two, everyone was saying so. Instead, he said, “Okay, fine; we take my vehicle, but I’m driving.”

“Is that so?” Derek was amused, which was the opposite of amusing.

“Don’t make me call your aunt over here.” That made the creepy smirk fade. Derek stormed over to the other side of the car. Great, piss off a super wolf, during the full moon, right before he sits in the passenger seat, good one, Stiles, way to look out for number one. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Derek chose the passenger seat or that Scott and Isaac swiftly moved into the back seats without complaint. Derek didn’t look the type to _do_ back seats... oh, bad phrasing.

“Are you waiting for a signal?” Derek asked him as he continued to stand outside and next to his jeep. He was waiting for the image of Derek humping a back seat to go away. 

“Sorry, I - so speaking of relatives,” he began as he hopped in the jeep and started it. “Where was your uncle when everything went to murderous hell last night?”

“I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know? Isn’t that bad?” Derek chose not to answer or ignored the question, which is basically the same thing. 

In the back seat, Scott had hoped that Isaac would go back to normal, that they would, once they left the house. They had confronted the Alphas about Boyd, gotten their answers, reaffirmed that Scott didn’t want anything to do with these pack dynamics and this whole shady wolf world. He also felt a little saner, killing had really been an option, now that they were leaving. But his boyfriend still smelled just as scared and... guilty... that’s definitely guilt.... than ever before. This needed to be fixed.

“Was it really okay that we left Erica back there?” Stiles asked from the front seat. Derek simply said “yes” and left it at that. Scott didn’t need to sniff around his best friend to know he was getting irritated; he hated short answers. They were worse than no answers. Speaking of answers...

“Are you okay?” he whispered to Isaac. 

“I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.”

“It’s just the moon, don’t worry. How do you feel?” Nice deflection. 

“A bit antsy, could probably punch a squirrel or two. Or eat it. A bit paranoid. A bit like running around in the woods naked and marking up trees, you?” Isaac smiled. Scott felt ten times better. 

“Same.” and the feeling got diluted.

“And the guilt?”

“W-what?”

“Why do you still feel guilty?” It could be about Erica, or Boyd still, or both.

“I don’t.” Derek turned his head around at this point. Right, whispering is useless. Scott wished Derek hadn’t done that because Isaac just lowered his head, his answer, finished. Time for plan B.

“Do you know anything?” Scott asked Derek. He doubted he would get an answer, but he had to try. 

“Isaac, what do you know? Is it relevant to what happened last night?” Derek asked him. Isaac curled into himself more and wrapped his arms around himself.

“Stop... I need to get out.” Isaac clipped out each word. Guilt melted into anger. Scott looked up and around, and indeed, the moon was quite visible as it stood in the sky in-between large puffs of clouds. 

“What? Why is this happening? Aren’t I your anchor?” Scott shot out each question. Isaac mirrored his confused expression when he looked up, except his eyes were yellow. Derek let out a low growl and Isaac put his head down again. Scott wasn’t sure if he should touch Isaac. He didn’t want to make things worse. His skin was itching to touch him though, to hold him

“What is happening back there?” Stiles quickly asked.

“Just drive.” Derek answered.

“Is he about to shift? Do I need to pull over?” Stiles’s questions came out faster than Scott’s previous ones.

“Shut up and drive.” commanded Derek. Isaac growled. Derek growled back.

“Isaac, calm down, man.” Scott pleaded 

“I’m pulling over.” Stiles announced. Derek growled, again, and leaned towards Stiles, took a fist full of Stiles’s shirt by his shoulder and pulled the driver closer to him. 

“We need to get away from the woods. KEEP DRIVING.”

“OKAY! I’m driving!” Derek let him go and turned his attention back to his Beta. Stiles kept his attention on Derek. “You know, if you had just explained that earlier, there wouldn’t be any need to get physical.”

“Words don’t seem to work with you.” 

“Scott, care to defend me here, I’m being physically harassed by your boyfriend’s Pack Daddy over here.” Stiles looked to his best friend through the rearview mirror. He saw Isaac with his head down; he saw the clawed hands. Derek will have to start growling louder. Soon.

“Look out!” Derek yelled as he took a hold of the steering wheel as best he could from his position. Even when he succeeded in turning the jeep slightly, the front side of the jeep still clipped the... wolf smelling person who had suddenly appeared in front of the jeep. It took Derek a second to calm down and to register who it was. 

“OH my GOD! What was that?” 

“Isaac!” Scott yelled. Stiles dragged his wide eyes away from the road just in time to see Scott exit the vehicle via the already open door on Derek’s side (in case you forgot, it’s a jeep!).

“Scott!” Stiles yelled. Scott disappeared into the woods. Stiles didn’t know if Scott was shifting too or if he was just running after Isaac, or who or what he had just hit or how he ended up in this moment or what he should do next. Derek had an idea. After glaring at Stiles as if it had been his fault that Scott and Isaac had taken off, he too started to leave the jeep. “Wait? Where are you going?” If there are really, at least, two werewolves running around in the woods, Stiles did not want to be alone right now. In fact, Derek is ideal company right now. Though, he would also like an arrow slinging hunter, for back up. 

“Come on.” Derek said as he got out. It was such a non answer. Did it mean Derek wanting Stiles to go running in the woods with him? Derek walked to the front of the car. Then Stiles got out. Right, there was that moment where he hit someone. It was still pretty light out, so Stiles could perfectly see that he had just hit a naked Jackson Whittemore with his jeep, and the young man was now laying, unconscious, on the asphalt.

“Was he the lizard monster a second ago?”

“He’s not a lizard monster, and it’s called a Kanima. He shifted to a wolf that night at the Argents.”

“So he’s a lizard wolf now?”

“No, idiot, he’s just a wolf. Now help me get him into the car before someone drives by.” Derek bent over Jackson and picked him up bridal style. Stiles sprang into action. Helping is always more constructive than freaking out. Though he really had to fight giving in to that latter idea.

 

Scott was trying his best to not freak out. Panicking or screaming Isaac’s name on the top of his lungs, like a crazy person, don’t say lunatic, not helpful, would not help him find the guy any faster. Besides, it’s not like he could really lose Isaac; he knows what the man smells like, what his shoes sound like against leaves and dirt, and if his memory and sense of navigation were also serving him well, he even knew where Isaac would be heading. Though it did help that, up until a few moments ago, Isaac had been howling. 

Still, who knows his boyfriend so well? Who? Scott McCall, the Isaac expert, that’s who. Scott was still congratulating himself as he walked slowly up to Isaac. He didn’t want his boyfriend to take flight again. Then again, this approach is useless. If he could sense Isaac, than Isaac would have no trouble sensing him. Luckily, Isaac looked to be staying put for now.

“Hey, are you okay?” he softly asked. Isaac slowly turned around. His was completely human. Scott dared to continue moving forward. With only a half a mile left before they would have arrived at Isaac’s house, he wondered why Isaac had stopped at all. 

“Quiet.” There were flittering nerves attached to those words. Isaac sensed danger. Scott quickly looked around, but he didn’t pick up anything. Perhaps Isaac saw himself as the danger. 

“Wha-”

“Get down!” Scott did as he was ordered just in time to see an arrow fly over his and Isaac’s heads. Really. Now is so not the time to be in a life threatening situation. The fact that Scott felt more annoyed by the sight of the arrow than scared, showed how frighteningly used to being in potentially fatal situations he was becoming. Or the full moon was really doing a number on his emotions today. Speaking of which, the moon could clearly be seen now. Given the time of year, it was normal to see the sun still out before dinner time or the five o’clock traffic rush. What was unusual, was for any hunter to be out, attacking, this close to the five o’clock traffic rush time, and this close to actual roads. 

Even with Scott’s quick reflexes and enhanced eyesight, he didn’t see anyone in the direction the arrow had come from. The trees weren’t thick enough in this area to provide adequate coverage. So where the hell...? The sound of feet crunching brittle leaves to his right caught his focus in time to see another arrow fly. Person. Smells like Allison. With after shave. Chris Argent. Scott registered all this before the arrow got anywhere near him. However, the arrow was never intended to hit him, and he didn’t realize why until it hit the tree behind him and a huge blast of light sparked from it, temporarily blinding him. 

Now he was super annoyed.

 

For Stiles, things had gone from frightening to confusing, to slightly annoying, because let’s face it, anything involving Jackson can fall anywhere within the range of annoying to completely frustrating. The moment Derek placed Jackson into a somewhat sitting position in the passenger side seat, they both heard the howl from the direction of the woods. Derek muttered a worried “Isaac”, under his breath, told Stiles to “Stay here.” and then. Just. Took. Off. He left Stiles to deal with the unconscious Jackson. He left Stiles to deal with being on the side of the road, next to werewolf/wolf people infested woods, during a full moon, with an unconscious teen wolf somewhat sitting in his jeep. Derek is an ass. And Stiles hates his life. 

After several deep breaths, some hand rubbing, head rubbing, and pacing in front of the jeep, Stiles built up enough nerve to walk up to the still passed out Jackson. He dared to poke him once. He then heard some howling in the direction Derek had run off in and he decided he was NOT going to be staying put. He had no clue where he was going to go, but he was certain that wherever he ended up, he couldn’t arrive with Jackson as is. He walked to the back of his jeep and opened the back. It gave him slight and sick pleasure at the thought of the rich and snobby Jackson having to wear three years old, unwashed track pants. The only thing that would have been better, would be if he had a pair of Scott’s. Werewolf doppelgängers sweat a lot, something about having a higher core temperature, yet still being human. 

Stiles walked back to Jackson with the pants in hand and all prior amusement dropping from his face. Right. Now he had to put the pants on him. There would be no joy in this, even if Jackson were purely human. Stiles cursed Derek and Scott and Isaac before placing the hem of the pants in his mouth and moving forward. As lightly as he could, he guided Jackson’s right leg towards him. He rolled one pant leg up and lowered the pants to the leg. Even in his now crouching position, he still caught the beam of light to his left and he could hear the sound of the vehicle approaching. Chances are, it was just another civilian, and if he stayed put, nothing would happen. Though that didn’t stop the slight fear that the noise would wake up Jackson. Or that the driver was one of those chivalrous civilians who would gladly pull over and offer help to the jeep that was pulled over. 

Or, as Stiles saw as he dared to glance down the darkening road, the vehicle currently slowing down could be the one belonging to the Sheriff, and his father, and it was about to make things a whole lot more complicated. And now it has come to a complete stop. And Stiles can clearly see his dad’s profile in the driver’s seat. Stiles likes to think of himself as a pretty good liar. But he also knows that his dad tends to catch him in about eighty percent of his lies (Dad could catch anyone else one hundred percent of the time). And Stiles has no idea how he’s going to lie his way out of this one. 

 

Scott has no idea what to do. He can’t see, he heard Isaac yelp somewhere to his right, but he doesn’t know if it’s because he got injured or surprised by the same flash Scott just saw. He swung his arms out in front of him, slashing through the air, hoping to either catch a stray arrow or, if he was really lucky, the throat of Chris frickin Argent. Did he just think that?

His vision cleared and there stood Chris Argent, in plain sight, bow and arrow raised and pointed at Scott. Scott tensed, preparing, ready, waiting. The sound of feet on dirt to his right made his risk a glance over. His red wolf vision took in Isaac standing, just as tensely, a few feet away, and he was staring down another hunter, this one had a gun pointed at Isaac's chest. Scott was sure he could catch Argent’s arrow, but could any of them catch or dodge a bullet? While taking glances at Mr. Argent, he took a side step towards Isaac.

“Scott.” Now his full attention was back on Mr. Argent. “What are you and Mr. Lahey doing out at this time? Hunting rabbits?” Scott wanted to strike now, but he willed himself to relax, which might be easier if the hunters lowered their weapons. 

“No. We’re just heading home.”

“You let your mother see you like this?” What was this, fifty questions? Just attack already. Derek Hale howled somewhere behind them. He was on his way. 

“I’m like this because I was being attacked.” Mr. Argent tilted his head. He clearly wasn’t buying it. But Scott could also tell he wanted to believe it... or something related to sadness. Whatever that means. What he knew for sure was that someone new was approaching, quickly. Another wolf. Female. But not one of the Alpha females or Erica. Scott saw Isaac’s head turn in the same direction the new wolf was coming from. Soon it was loud enough for even the ordinary humans to take notice. The one in front of Isaac noticed too late. The new, female wolf burst out of the trees and right at the hunter before the guy could even aim his gun at it. Mr. Argent changed his target, but with the speed and agility this new wolf was displaying, Scott knew the veteran hunter didn’t stand a chance. 

Before the bloodied body of the other hunter even hit the ground, the wolf was charging in zigzags towards Mr. Argent. Scott was barely able to pull the man out of the way as the wolf jumped at him. Scott pulled hard enough to send Mr. Argent safely to the ground next to him, and he got ready to tackle the new comer, if need be. The wolf lady looked straight at him and all thoughts of attacking left, and Scott was starting to shift back into the form his mama gave him as shock filled his system, as he stared at a fang filled, yellow eyed Victoria Argent. 

And then all hell broke loose. 

 

If there is a hell, Stiles is pretty sure this is the moment in time he will be forced to relive for all eternity. His dad stood in front of him with his arms crossed, he wanted to “hear it”. He wanted to know why his son was parked on the side of the road. He suspected Stiles was up to no good; it was all in the way in which he said it and had looked at Stiles. 

From his viewpoint, Mr. Stilinski had been worried, at first, to see his son’s jeep on the side of the road, but one look at his son as he came towards him and the worry vanished. His son was guilty of something. It’s the same look he gets when he sees Stiles sitting outside of the school’s principal’s office, or when Stiles broke his favorite mug and was caught in the middle of cleaning it up. At the time, he had claimed a strong wind had done it. Who knew how long or how many lies the Sheriff would have to endure until he could get his son to speak the truth to him tonight. When will kids learn that it’s the lying that parents will always be mad at more than the original mistake? 

His son’s response to his first question was, “What?” Is he really stupid enough to play the dumb card? 

“What did you do?”

“Who said I did anything? I’ve got a little car tr-, hey, where are you, what are you doing out here at this hour?” Stiles tried to block him from seeing into the front of his jeep, but he just pushed his son aside. He had to lean his head forward to be sure, but then there was no denying what he saw. He had to ask anyway.

“Is that Jackson Whittemore in your jeep?”

“Ah...yeah... we’re teammates, you know, lacrosse buddies.”

“You hate him. And why is he sleeping, or naked?” 

“Okay well... see, Dad... Jackson and I...are more than teammates.” His dad blinked slowly.

“You’re not gay.”

“I could be gay.”

“Jackson’s not gay.”

“Hey, I happen to have it on good authority that he’s had some mayor gay action with one Isaac Lahey.”

“Did you say, Lahey?” By the look on his father’s face, Stiles knew that being found on the side of the road with Jackson was no longer an issue.

 

The issue wasn’t whether or not Mrs. Argent recognized Scott, but that she had decided to lunge at him. They hit the ground and Scott felt her nails dig in and down his right arm. He yelled in sharp agony. Victoria was then knocked off of him by a charging, angered Isaac. The two tumbled, but Scott’s view was blocked before they stopped. Derek was suddenly in his eye line. His red eyes assessed Scott for a brief moment before turning and moving towards the wrestling wolves. Movement on the other side of Scott alerted him to the arrival of Margret. She also glanced down at him.

As Victoria raised her arm to strike Isaac, Derek sunk his claws into her back and pulled her off of him. Victoria stumbled backwards and directly into the path of Margret. The Alpha female wasted no time in raising her own arm and bringing it down and across Victoria’s neck. Scott looked away as blood sprayed out of the opening wound. He couldn’t help seeing Victoria’s head hit the ground before her body followed. 

Chris Argent had tried to appear invisible against a large tree as Derek and some other wolf had entered the scene. It was the first rational thought he had after Scott had saved him from being killed by his wife. He knew this possibility had existed, but to actually see it... It had been even more frightening to see her turn on her own, attacking Scott and then Isaac. Then his brain switched to pure sensory mode, unable to comprehend Derek and that other wolf suddenly showing up, or his wife, which he had just accepted to be alive, was now dead. Killed. And her murderer was...

“M-Margret?” He hadn’t meant to speak her name out loud. The female Alpha turned at the sound of her name and her red eyes bore into him. Her eyes faded to blue. 

“Chris.” All the anger and rage that had drenched the small gap in the woods dissipated as Margret took one, and then two, small steps towards Mr. Argent, before she broke into a run. She ran past him and went deeper into the woods. Derek was by Scott’s side again, asking him if he was okay. A shake to the shoulder snapped him back into reality, got him engaging with his surroundings again. There were two bodies on the ground and it was just hitting Scott how close he had come to becoming one of them. 

He forced that thought aside as Derek forced him to his feet. 

“Come on, we have to get back to Stiles before Jackson wakes up.” That pushed all thoughts related to his mortality, or the carnage he had just witnessed, away. It helped that the sentence didn’t make much sense to him.

“Before Jackson what?” Derek left his side without answering and he started running in the direction they had come from. Scott started to follow, then he caught Isaac standing to the side, watching him. He quickly closed the gap between them. “Are you okay?” before he got an answer he picked up on the blood that wasn’t coming from the bodies near them. He started prodding Isaac’s chest and arms and then he found the blood source at his hands. He lifted them closer to his face so he could inspect them better.

“You’re hurt.” It was Isaac’s turn to examine Scott; his fingers ghosted over Scott’s blood stained shirt sleeve. 

“It’s already healed.” His attention went back to Isaac’s injury.

“It’s not my blood.” Isaac said in explanation for his own red stains. “It’s... from, when she...”

“I get it.” Scott wasn’t ready to talk about it either. “Come on. If what Derek said is true, then we need to get back to Stiles. Even a Jackson in human form can be dangerous.” He took Isaac’s tainted hand in his and started to walk forward, but Isaac tugged his hand away and remained in place. Scott tilted his head at the action.

“I can’t... I...” Scott then noticed the same, now familiar, mix of fear and guilt coming from his boyfriend. Blame the full moon, but Scott just didn’t care anymore. He was beyond tired of this. His hands where back on Isaac and he didn’t even realize he was pushing him until Isaac’s back hit a tree. Scott’s hands moved to his boyfriend’s arms, pinning him in place completely... well, as long as the taller, may be stronger, teenager decided not to fight back. 

“Look, now is not the time to be caught up on whatever the hell is going on with you lately, so either tell me what’s wrong right now, or later, I don’t care. Pull yourself together now. We have to get back to the-”

“I have to go home.” That made Scott growl. 

“Why?” What could be so important, more important, at Isaac’s house than Scott’s best friend?

“Scott, let me go.” Isaac wasn’t angry. He was scared. That made Scott drop his hands, but he didn’t back away.

“Tell me.” he pleaded gently, well, as gentle as he could get for the moment. 

Isaac looked behind Scott and then down at the ground as he muttered, “I killed my father.” Scott took a step back. “At least, I think I did. And... the worst part is,” Isaac’s eyes found Scott’s. “is part of me doesn’t even care. I just don’t want to get caught. I just... I need to get home... to see.” 

With a shaky voice, Scott demanded, “Tell me what happened.” Isaac shook his head. 

“It’d be easier if I showed you.”


	13. My Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same day/night as 11 &12\. Time does a funny thing, but hopefully it all matches up right. Anyway, Scott deals with Isaac's quote on quote "Daddy Issues". Stiles tries not to get killed by Jackson. More revealed on the Hale Family front. And there are dead bodies all over the town.

_Streamers, balloons, and paper party hats; it was everything a person could need for a birthday party. Margret was too excited to care that the decorations were better suited for a six year old’s party than for a sixteen year old. It was her day. And as immature as it may sound, she was really looking forward to cake and presents. Plus, she really adored the dress she was wearing. It was the first present she had received for simply being born. In the past, she had had mixed feelings about this day. If she hadn’t been born... her parents, most likely, would still be alive. If she hadn’t been born, however, well, she wouldn’t be alive. Redundant but true._

_She gazed at herself in the full length mirror. She smiled. She could recognize a good thing when she had it. And her life was good. She had a huge family that loved her. School was, well, it was school, she wasn’t the most popular kid, but she wasn’t some outcast either. Her life may not be the most exciting, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Her smile widened as she caught her red eyes in her reflection. She was so used to the shifts, to see the world through a tunneled, red lens, that whole minutes could go by before she would realize her eyesight had shifted to that of a predator. She eyes looked passed her reflection to the person standing in the doorway. Their motions appeared slowed; their presence seemingly great._

_She eyes shifted back to blue by the time she turned around to smile at her guest._

_“Party doesn’t start for another hour.” She pointed out as she crossed her arms. Her guest, Chris Argent, dressed in a t-shirt, dress pants, and a sports jacket, spread his arms out in a show of innocence._

_“It’s your day. If you want me to leave...”_

_“I didn’t say that.”_

_“Besides, if I took a later bus, I would have been mad late.”_

_“And you don’t want to miss the cake.”_

_“And I don’t want to miss the cake.” Her eyes flashed red, it was more reflexively than intentional. It didn’t stop Chris from walking up to the wolf in pink taffeta clothing. “You know I’m not staying for cake.”_

_“No duh. But it’s legit dumb how our families don’t get along.”_

_“You’re a-”_

_“Okay, so, not completely dumb, but you’re telling me that after all these years, your folks can’t see that we’re just people too?”_

_“You’re more than “just” people. You’re dangerous.” It was Margret’s turn to step forward._

_“You think I’m dangerous?”_

_“Not dressed like that.”_

_“Chris.”_

_“What do you want me to say? You know Gerard is never going to change his opinion on-”_

_“And you?”_

_“I’m here, aren’t I.” Margret placed her hand on her hip. She knew neither of them wanted to be talking about this. But it has also always bothered her that one of her closest friends comes from a family that thinks her family should be locked in cages or killed. “And I come baring a gift.” Chris dug into one of the pockets in his jacket. He pulled out something colorful. Without asking first, he closed the distance between them. Margret’s cheeks were the next thing to shift to red as she let him place the star-studded necklace over her head and around her neck. “It stretches, so you can even wear it when you transform.” Margret’s mind flashed back to a conversation she had had with Chris a few weeks ago about her frustration towards all of the jewelry (and clothes) she had torn through over the years due to unplanned shifts (or planned shifts where she simply forgot she was wearing a bracelet/ring)._

_She leaned forward, stood on her toes, and placed a chaste kiss on Chris’s cheek. When she pulled back, she caught the look that passed by his eyes. She heard his pulse quicken. She knew what it meant, but before she could decide if certain actions were wise or not, Chris was leaning forward and they kissed again. She tasted his chapstick and his excitement._

_A yell from Jill (her second cousin once removed, or something) broke them apart. Margret noticed that the red lens was back as she looked at Chris. She also knew that her eyes weren’t the only thing that had shifted between them._

_Three weeks later, Margret took a three day weekend to run two states over to where Chris was staying (his college) for a visit. That was also when she was formally introduced to a woman named Victoria. For an ordinary human, she was quite intimidating. Margret ripped twenty trees from their roots during her journey back home._

_Several years later, Chris Argent found himself banging on a door he thought he’d never see again._

_“What do you want, Chris?” A very pregnant Margret appeared, she stood on the left side of the front porch. “I don’t even live here anymore.” She continued, nodding towards Hale House._

_“And you won’t tell me where you live.”_

_“You know you could find out if you really wanted to.”_

_“Not the point. I’m here, now, because you won’t return my calls, and what, you think I wouldn’t notice? You think you could become pregnant and I wouldn’t find out?”_

_“It was sure looking that way, wasn’t it. Look, save your breath; we both know this couldn’t go on forever, and that I suck at goodbyes, so...”_

_“Good-... did we say goodbye after Vicky got pregnant?” No. They didn’t. Margret smirked. She recalled memories of Chris’s “ice-cream runs”, of how Chris biting into her bare shoulder had felt as they played in the back seat of the Argent SUV. Presently, Margret looked back at the house, became serious again, and walked over to Chris. She took him by the arm and led him off the porch._

_“You still shouldn’t have come.” She said lowly, they stopped walking, but she didn’t let him go._

_“Why?”_

_“What part of... us... don’t you understand, or have you forgotten where you are already?” She meant their affair. She meant that Chris was only drawing attention to something that needed to be kept a secret by showing up at a house whose residents could smell his aftershave from their positions inside._

_“I need to know.”_

_“What?”_

_“You know what?” Margret let him go and stepped back._

_“No, he’s not.”_

_“He?”_

_“He.” Given their location, it was the only way Margret could think to express that Chris was not the father of her baby. She turned around completely and started back towards the house. She really was lousy at goodbyes._

_Chris woke up when he thought he heard someone calling his name. He turned over. His wife was sound asleep. He looked out the bedroom window, at the full moon, and decided to get up anyway. His feet led him to his daughter’s nursery. She too was sleeping, but she also wasn’t the only one in the room._

_“What are you doing here?” he whispered harshly to Margret. Margret was wearing Victoria’s bathrobe, which meant she ran here, on four legs. Even with a wolf person staring him down with red eyes, on a full moon night, and inches away from the place his baby girl slept, he wasn’t afraid. He has never been afraid of Margret._

_“What, you’re the only one allowed to make surprise visits?”_

_“And if Vicky wakes up?” Margret stepped forward._

_“I guess we’ll just have to make this quick and quiet.” Chris looked anywhere but at her as she placed her hands flatly against his chest; her own growing belly created some space between them. He looked at Allison’s crib._

_“I’m not going to have sex with you in my daughter’s room.” A smile stretched across Margret’s face. She ran her fingers down his cheek and across his chin. He finally looked at her._

_“I don’t need sex; I just want you.” Chris closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers._

_“You have me. You’re the one who said goodbye.”_

_“Sorry. I got scared.”_

_“So you don’t want to end this, us?”_

_“I’m here, aren’t I.”_

 

“Well, we’re here.” Scott announced as they stood in front of Isaac’s house. Well, not exactly “in front”. They were on the right street. For whatever reason, there was a cop car across the street from Isaac’s house and both men suspected that it wasn’t there to see the Whittemores. 

Or maybe it was, maybe it had something to do with Jackson being with Stiles or near Stiles, whatever Derek had said. There was way too much information that needed to be processed in a short amount of time. Jackson. Dangerous Alphas (who killed Boyd). Victoria Argent. The reason they were going Isaac’s house. Much too much. The cop mystery would have to wait. One nod from Isaac and the two teen wolves where creeping across the street as fast as they could. They went to the back of Isaac’s house.

“You have a pool?” Was the first thing Scott said once they had entered the home. 

“So?”

“Nothing, just... I can’t wait for summer.” Isaac gave a small smile. Though no amount of small talk was going to distract them from the task at hand. Isaac quickly led them to the basement door, but it was Scott who led the way down the stairs. He held Isaac’s hand to ensure he followed and to offer support. 

As soon as Isaac had made his confession, Scott had imagined all kinds of situations, scenes which would result in whatever he would soon be discovering. He could easily imagine Isaac having shifted in front of his dad, much like when Scott had shifted in front of Stiles and attacked him. He imagined a bloodier outcome for Mr. Lahey than what he experienced with Stiles. Maybe Isaac accidentally punched his dad too hard, or down the basement stairs.

Scott wouldn’t and didn’t blame Isaac for whatever happened. The truth was, it could have easily been him who went too far. It could have easily been Stiles or his mother that wound up hurt. Who was he to judge? It had been painfully, almost impossibly hard, to control any thoughts or actions when the fangs came out, at least, at first. It was getting easier with each time.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, he actually expected to see a body. He looked around the cluttered, dark, even with the light on, room. Had Isaac buried him in the walls afterwards? 

“What happened?” He had to start somewhere. Scott saw Isaac looking off to some area of the basement, so he shook the hand still attached to his to get his attention. “Hey, what happened?” Isaac shook his head. Scott thought that meant he didn’t want to answer, or he didn’t know, didn’t remember, but then, with a cracked voice, Isaac spoke.

“I just... we were fighting and... I wanted to kill him. But I didn’t want to hurt him. I just... I didn’t want to be afraid anymore.” There was a much longer pause before he added. “I wanted to scare him.” 

“Okay... so what did you do?” Instead of answering, Isaac nodded over to the same area of the basement he had been looking at before. Scott took a few steps towards it, taking Isaac with him. He didn’t catch it right away. He was still expecting to just see a body. Then his mind switched to where a body could be and that was when his gaze focused on the large freezer. He visually checked back with Isaac as they moved toward the freezer. His boyfriend’s expression never changed. Scott bit his bottom lip as he looked down at the freezer. It had a huge, slightly rusting padlock attached to the handle. “He’s in here?” 

Isaac nodded, then he muttered a quiet, “Yeah”. 

“Well... this doesn’t look premeditated at all.” That shook Isaac out of his eerie haze. 

“What? I didn’t plan this. It just.. suddenly I...” his erratic hand gestures tried to finish his sentence for him.

“You just suddenly dragged your dad down to the basement, emptied your freezer-”

“It was already empty.”

“Forced him inside and found a padlock conveniently within arm’s-”

“The padlock was already there.”

“Who padlocks their freezer?”

“We do. Will you just... the longer we stall, the angrier he’ll... be.”

“Wait, how long has he been in there?” Scott fiddled with the padlock, yet he had no intention of yanking it off until he knew what he was dealing with.

“About a month.”

“A month! And you still think he’s alive?” Isaac wouldn’t think less of him if he sent out his support from upstairs, right? He’s seen enough dead people for one night.

“Will you hate me if I said, I hope not?” Scott opened and then promptly closed his mouth, making his teeth click. He looked to Isaac for more information, for understanding. For the life of him he couldn’t think of why anyone would wish his or her parent dead. Then again, if Isaac's dad had been anything like Allison’s anti-wolf parents...

“Did he try to kill you... did he, a month ago, did he find out that... you know, that Derek bit you?”

“No, it wasn’t like that. And I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to, so could you just-” Isaac raised his hands towards the freezer.

“What? You want me,” Scott pointed to himself. “to open it?”

“Would you, please, would you?” Scott let out a puff of breath as he searched the ground for answers. With the full moon still shining brightly outside, he was also aching to leave for more reasons than to just get out of this basement. After a few more huffs, to calm himself down, he turned around and faced the freezer.

Yanking the padlock off was the easy part. Now it was his turn to personally feel some of the fear that his boyfriend has been consumed by, from time to time, for the past... month. He lifted the lid. Sure enough, there was a body of a large man inside. There was no blood and he didn’t see any scratch marks on Mr. Lahey. There was, however, endless amounts of scratch marks all over the sides and on the inside lid of the freezer. It was sickening. He traced some of the markings with his fingers and he tilted his head as he did so. A faint scent, that was mostly strongest at the black blotches, which looked like dried blood,and that didn’t carry the same scent of the man directly below him. It carried the scent of the young man standing, shifting from foot to foot, next to him. 

“Isaac... you made these scratches.”

“So?”

“So!” Scott slammed the freezer door back down. He also wanted to slam Isaac’s head against the freezer. Isaac didn’t even flinch. Scott flinched. The phone in his pants started to ring, hence the flinching. It was Stiles’s ring tone. He hadn’t forgotten his friend’s strange predicament and so, he quickly pulled out his phone, purposely turning away from Isaac and the freezer. 

Stiles was fine. He was with Jackson. He hadn’t seen Derek since he noticed him running after his Dad’s car on the way over to the police station. He asked what had happened in the woods. Scott wasn’t ready to put all that into words, so he just said he would tell him later. Stiles said that that would be fine, that is, if he is still alive later, since, well, he’s in a room with Jackson. And then he started rambling about Jackson and being gay and being naked and Scott’s ears really didn’t tune back in until Stiles stated that his Dad was looking for Isaac. And that Isaac’s dad had been reported missing and the police would like to talk to Isaac about it. Then he went back to rambling, this time about how his dad and most of the police in the station had just left, leaving him with, in case Scott forgot, an unconscious werewolf named Jackson. He then told Scott he had to, in bold letters, **had to** , come get him. 

“Dude, I’m kind of... you said Derek was following you; why can’t he bring you home?”

“In what car? Dad took my keys. Apparently, I’ve told one too many lies lately, so instead of grounding me like a normal parent, he decided I should spend a night -oh my god, he just moved. Scott, you need to get me out of here.”

“All right, I’ll be there as soon as I... wait, just have Derek bring Jackson home then, when he shows up.”

“Why can’t you just come here?”

“Cause I’m a little busy right now... it’s wolf stuff. You’re safer there anyway. I’ll pick you up in the morning, okay?”

“Scott, please don’t leave me in here.”

“I’ll call you later.”

 

 

“Scott!” Stiles yelled into the phone. The phone read “call ended” a second later. “Damn Werewolves!” Since when did being a predator equate to being a douche bag? Stiles knew that if this had been any other night, Scott would have come. Heck, he wouldn’t have left the jeep after it hit Jackson. 

Speaking of douche bags... as Stiles leaned against the bars of the holding cell, which he sat outside of, Jackson kept fidgeting from his horizontal position on the bench next to him. He thought of dragging his werewolf ass into the holding cell and locking him up, but he didn’t want to risk waking him up. 

His mind wandered back to why his Dad, and most of the cops working tonight, had left. Luckily, he had been standing next to his father when the call came in. It was a murder/suicide. Six people were dead. For now, it appeared to be due to multiple drownings. Though Stiles had mentally kicked himself for first jumping to the conclusion that the attack had to do with what had happened with his best friend in the woods, before hearing the bit about the drownings.

Great, even the water monster goes apeshit on a full moon night. 

Jackson made a noise, a thick, deep in the throat, kind. Then his eyes slowly opened. Stiles quickly stood up. Without a second thought, he stepped into the cell and slid the door closed. Jackson hardly gave him the time of day as a human, hopefully, this would still ring true now.

 

Derek’s cell phone rang. It was Scott. He said Stiles needed help back at the police station and that Jackson needed to be taken home, and since Jackson was his responsibility, he was only going to ask him nicely once. Then he hung up. It sounded to Derek that someone had a bit too much moonshine in them. Which reminded him of a joke.

“What can a werewolf get drunk off of?”

“Moonshine.” Margret smiled. “I taught you that one.” Derek had originally been following the Stilinksi’s and Jackson, but then he sensed his family nearby and he found himself following that trail instead. He was led to the town cemetery, and an empty grave, or it would have been an empty grave, but his mother’s cousin, but still given the label of “Aunt” was laying inside. He jumped into the grave and she moved over; this gave him some room to lay down beside her. The last time he had seen her like this, he had been six years old. 

He wasn’t six anymore. “You want to tell me what happened back there?” last last time he had seen his Aunt was less than an hour ago, she killed a wolfed out Victoria Argent and ran away from Chris.

“If I wanted to talk, I wouldn’t be here. Besides, don’t you have some Betas to round up?”

“I know you and Chris used to be friends.”

“Used to, is the key term there.”

“I saw the way he looked at you.”

“He was probably just surprised to see me alive.”

“Why _did_ you leave Beacon Hills like that?”

“You mean, why did I fake my death in a blaze of car crash glory? I’ll tell you this much, I didn’t plan it.”

“So it was an accident?”

“I didn’t say that.” Derek waited for her to continue. He also moved in closer. It had been a long while since he felt this safe or any level of safe. “You know, it was Victoria Argent who saved me that day, who helped me get out of town. She helped me. She could have also orchestrated the whole thing, but that could just be my natural - born paranoia kicking in.”

“So who did it?”

“Who do you think? Who has ever wanted a Hale dead?”

“Chris.” That earned him a hard punch to his chest. “Ow.” He was about to ask “who” again, when, while looking at his surroundings, something clicked. “It was Gerard.” She didn’t say anything. Derek knew he was right. So he continued. “You’re the one who clawed up his tombstone.”

“Guilty. Now, no more questions about the past, or I’ll start asking some of my own.” Derek didn’t know if she meant the fire or the time he tried to kill his Uncle Peter, her cousin, but he wasn’t up to discussing either event. He also didn’t want to talk about what happened tonight. He had all the answers he needed.

“So... what should you never feed a werewolf?” Margret laughed.

“Smooth transition.”

“You want to discuss something else?” she shook her head.

“Moon pies. Never feed a werewolf moon pies.” She played with her necklace as she asked, “Why do werewolves wear plaid?”

“Why?”

“To hide the bullet proof vest.” That got them both laughing. 

“A werewolf and a vampire walk into a bar-” Derek’s phone started ringing then. It was Isaac. He apologized for Scott’s call, but then he repeated Scott’s demand to go save Stiles. Please. He then hung up. 

“The answer is a bloody Mary. Trust me, I’ve heard them all. Just like I heard that entire conversation. So go, go save your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my -”

“And there goes that heartbeat again.” A pause.

“He’s not.”

“You should go for it.” Derek stood up. He was getting more than a bit tired of being bossed around tonight. 

“The last time I “went for it”, it got most of my family killed.” Derek jumped out of the grave and took off without looking back. 

 

Looking back on his life, Stiles felt like he really hasn’t had a chance to really live yet. He hasn’t even had sex yet. It just wasn’t fair. He was so going to haunt Scott’s hairy wolf ass if Jackson kills him tonight. And with the way Jackson’s bright blue eyes turned in his direction, it made that possibility all the more real. What could possibly be more important than saving his best friend? Wolf stuff? Oh yeah, he knew what that was code for. And he wasn’t just going to haunt Scott, but Isaac’s little temptress ass as well. 

All thought of revenge vanished as Jackson pounced at him. He knew it was futile, but he held onto the bars anyway, he tried to keep Jackson from using one hand, like he was doing, and yanking the door open, like he just did. Luckily, Stiles got his hands out in time to not get squished. He backed into a corner as Jackson entered the cell. 

“Hey, Jackson, come on, Buddy, you don’t want to do this.... think of Lydia.” Jackson paused. He seemed to be listening, but it was hard to tell what was going through his head with that scrunched up wolf face he had. “That’s right, your girlfriend, Lydia... or Isaac... maybe you want to think of him....?” 

“Hey, what’s going on in here!” Jackson turned to the new voice, and in the next instant he was out of the cell. Stiles craned his neck far enough to see one of the officers backing away. The guy got one foot out the door before Jackson lunged forwards and clawed through his left calf muscle. The man managed to hobble into the hallway where Stiles could only hear a lot of screaming and growling. One last, loud one ended the whole ordeal. He heard footsteps coming towards the door again, but he was too afraid to move. And since they were steady steps, he highly doubted it was the injured cop. 

He was right; it wasn’t the injured cop. 

“At least, there’s still one werewolf in this town who cares about me. I don’t know where the hell Scott is, or what he’s doing, okay, so I have a hunch who-”

“What did you call me?” Stiles walked out of the cell while he talked.

“And you would think - I called you a werewolf - that the thought of me being stuck with crazy ass Jackson-” Through his ranting he had noticed Derek getting closer, but since the guy had inadvertently saved him, he hadn’t sensed any danger in it until Derek pushed him hard enough that he stumbled back into the cell. Derek then stepped back and slammed it shut, shutting Stiles in. He then looked pointedly at Stiles.

“Okay, you’re a wolf... who just happens to have all the abilities and physical attributes of a mythical creature.” Derek opened the cell again and Stiles took a few steps back and held his hands up. Okay, now it’s his own damn fault if he dies tonight, no one else's. 

“Do I look like a mythical creature to you?”

“Really, with red eyes glowing at me, you want me to -” He didn’t even see him move, and yet somehow, he felt himself get yanked forward. Derek’s red eyes were now inches from his and he had grabbed the front of his shirt. “Okay, okay, you’re a wolf, just a man with wolfish features, enhancements. An enhanced human!” Derek didn’t move. He almost seemed frozen in place as he stared Stiles down. “What?” He had been 99% sure it had been the werewolf comment that had pissed him off. Was he wrong?

“What do you expect?”

“Pardon?”

“How do you expect me to react when you say stuff like that? Do you want me to grab you like this? Is that what you want?”

“I... uh... huh?... It’s just... a, uh, defense mechanism, a really lousy one I might add... the humor. It helps me deal with a situation... not really there to save me from it... really lousy.” They stayed in place for a second longer as Derek either accepted or rejected what Stiles said. Whatever his choice, he let Stiles go and walked out of the cell. He closed the door behind him.

“Stay here, you’ll be safer.” He then left to go deal with Jackson, who he had left cowering against a wall in the hallway. It was time to round up the Betas. Not for the first time this night, Derek wished for the time in his life when his full moons weren’t so eventful. 

 

Scott wondered if all wolf people lived such eventful lives. If they got hunted down by maniacs with crossbows or ever witnessed wolf on wolf violence or had to help with disposing a body of a man that their fellow wolf boyfriend had accidentally killed. What was the life expectancy for someone with his condition? Maybe it was the current cemetery scenery that triggered it, but the night had started to sink in for Scott. Even after all that had happened, the sun had yet to set (it was close though). Time wise, the evening was just beginning. He really couldn’t see himself going through more moons of this. He really couldn’t. 

“You okay?” After getting off the phone with Stiles, Scott actually experienced a moment of clarity, a feeling of calmness. He knew what needed to be done. He looked back at his boyfriend. Isaac was staring at the closed freezer and he had completely shifted. It took a couple of times to get his attention. He quietly listened to Scott’s plan and then he slowly walked up the stairs to do as he was told. In fact, “You okay?” were the first words this robot version of Isaac had uttered since the phone call.

A short time after that, they were loading the late Mr. Lahey into an empty lacrosse bag and carrying it... or him... outside and over to the town cemetery. Either one of them could do it himself, but Scott didn’t trust that Isaac could mentally do anything by himself at the present time, and he simply didn’t want to do this alone. They had reached their destination, Isaac asked his question, and Scott was far from okay. Given how his life had been playing out lately, it wouldn’t surprise him if, just for the hell of it, a police officer decided to go for a stroll or visit a loved one at this very moment. 

He kind of wished that did happen, instead of what actually transpired. 

Empty grave spotted, Isaac had taken off to go get the needed supplies: shovels. The plan was to dig deeper, put the body in, and then cover it up so it would still be a six feet deep hole. It was scary to think of how easy it can be to hide a body, at least in this town. Scott tried to focus on anything, anything besides the duffel bag that laid near his feet. And that was when he noticed the person coming towards him. He should have sensed it faster, in fact, he did sense _something_ , which is what made him look over to that particular location to his far left in the first place. ALPHA.

Peter is near. Peter is coming. His... an Alpha is here. DANGEROUS. 

“Well, what do we have here; did someone have an accident?” Peter sneered as if Scott had pissed his pants. 

Scott tried to keep his voice steady as he asked, “What do you want?” He didn’t know why he was even bothering to appear calm. KILL...NO KILL. RUN. STAY. PROTECT SCOTT. NO SUBMIT. He probably smelled like a hot mess. Scott’s blood ran cold as his instincts battled and his mind jumped from assumption to assumption. What if Peter could tell what was in the bag and blamed Scott for it? PROTECT SCOTT. What if there was some kind of no kill rule for newly turned wolves and he was now seconds away from getting his throat ripped out? RUN. What if he correctly guesses it’s Isaac kill and he goes after him instead? PROTECT ISAAC. Well, that’s a given. but how, without any more killing? BUILD PACK. 

Well that’s a new one.

“Relax Scott, I couldn’t care less about what you and your boyfriend do to amuse yourselves, just don’t get caught.”

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Really? So Derek’s little high strung Beta didn’t just resolve his, plain as day, Daddy issues.” It really wasn’t a question. It also made his stomach twist to know that someone, who has probably spoken less than a handful of phrases to Isaac, knew such personal things about him. Plain as day, his ass. The thought soothed a couple of fried nerves.

So, “Like I said, it’s not what it looks like.” Came out gruffly. Peter raised one hand.

“And like I said, I don’t care. What I do care about, is you. At the risk of sounding too sentimental, you’re the first person I’ve turned since Derek tried to rip my throat out,” Scott’s heart jumped at the familiar words. “the only person, actually, and as much as I know it displeases you, I can’t help the need to be invested in your life.”

“Invested?” Though he hasn’t known him long, Scott picked up that Peter chooses his words carefully. The word in question was just the kind of word a villain repeats at the end of the movie, right after he has cornered the hero. Not that Scott sees himself as a hero or anything. 

“I knew you were smart. I’m going out of my carefully calculated way to give you what could be considered as life saving advice.” Then his paused.

“And that is?” This guy really likes hearing himself speak.

“If you really care about Derek’s Betas, like I think you do, then be sure to keep them, and yourself, away from the house tonight.”

“The house?”

“You know which house.” 

“Why? What’s going on? What’s going to happen?” Were the Alphas going to attack Isaac and Erica like they had Boyd? But why?

“Sorry, can’t have the young adonis running off to inform his other daddy.” Maybe because it was said a second after his question; but nothing about that sentence made sense. Noises behind him, made him turn before he could ask Peter another question. Isaac. It clicked. Isaac. Adonis. Daddy. Derek. 

Ewwww, why did Peter say that about his boyfriend? The dude is old! Scott frowned as his hand grazed the area where Peter once bit him, now feeling dirty. He turned back to Peter. Or at least, he turned back to where Peter used to be standing. Frickin’ ninja wolves. 

“Was that Peter?” Isaac had also gotten much closer in a span of time that wasn’t possible for ordinary humans. 

“Yes.”

“What did he want?” 

“Nothing. Just being creepy again.” Scott didn’t know why he didn’t tell the whole truth. He just didn’t. The notion that perhaps part of him, a primal part, still felt loyal to Peter, made burying his boyfriend’s dad feel almost morally acceptable. Though that feeling quickly faded as soon as they tossed the sports bag encased body into the man sized hole.

The sun had gone down during their time at the cemetery and Scott was feeling on edge. Though he wasn’t sure when it had been decided that that would be their next destination, Scott appreciated the mostly silent trip over to his house. He did call Derek and tell him to go rescue Stiles. Then after sharing some words, Isaac felt the need to call him too and apologize for Scott’s call. Rude.

This didn’t make Scott feel any better.

It was like feeling energized, ready to take on the world, or run eight miles, but he didn’t actually feel like doing any of those things. He had felt pretty restless all day, but with school, and the shock of Boyd, and then the attack in the woods, and then the whole thing with Isaac, he really didn’t have time to assess or cater to his own needs. Or wants. He was hungry, or angry, no, more like extremely irritated, though he had no clue at or about what. He just wanted to hit something. Or someone. 

He also wanted to have sex with Isaac; which really conflicted with the new unease he felt towards his companion. It didn’t help that Isaac had taken a habit of flexing his fingers, alternating between dull, bitten nails and razor sharp ones. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Isaac, exactly, now that he knew he had killed someone. Just wary of what he may do next.

“So,” He started, as he closed the door to his bedroom behind him, once again thankful that his Mom tended to work the night shift, like tonight, “Any more confessions you want to make? How’s the rest of your family doing?” 

“I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“Getting you involved. I can’t really explain it. I kind of feel like a real monster right now... I have for a while.” Isaac looked down at his fully extended claws. Scott could relate. Sort of. 

“Hey, I know it was an accident -”

“I’m not sorry he’s dead.” Scott didn’t feel like having sex with Isaac anymore. In fact, Isaac pretty much broke the last damn string keeping him sane tonight. He could barely handle the knowledge that Boyd was dead, that Victoria Argent had been alive and tried to kill him, that Stiles was stuck in a police station with Jackson and that he actually trusted Derek enough to take care of it. He could not take his boyfriend being a psychopathic killer on top of that. Just no! His heart couldn’t take it. His chest couldn’t. His lungs couldn’t. He was having trouble breathing.

“Scott!” Isaac stepped closer, but Scott put his hand up even as he gasped for breath. What?... He thought he didn’t need his inhaler anymore, why was his asthma back? Isaac tried to step forward again, to help. 

“Get back!” Scott barked; this time, he pushed Isaac and his claws tore into and down his chest. They didn’t go deep, but it was enough to leave slivers of blood dripping down the front of Isaac’s shirt. It caused Isaac to lose all of his wolfish features. It didn’t stop him from running at Scott, ducking his head down, wrapping his arms around his waist and knocking him over. They landed on the ground with Isaac on top. Scott’s head slammed against his bare floor. The fight was on. 

The fight lasted a total of 1 minute and 38 seconds. There was blood everywhere, on the floor, the walls, the desktop, and the chair. The room was in complete disarray. The comforter laid on the floor from when Scott had used it to temporally blind Isaac. There was a long, thin crack in his window. There was a much larger, back of a human his size, shaped dent in the wall opposite the window. The only reason the fight stopped was because Isaac had started to cry. Not all out, chick flick bawling, but just enough, a sharp intake of breath, a few tears, to make Scott let him go. They now sat side by side, against the wall, panting. 

Scott mumbled out that apology he had wanted to say when he had first scratched Isaac, and just because it felt wrong otherwise, he added, “And I’m sorry about your dad too.” Isaac nodded.

“I miss him.” Scott looked over and watched Isaac watch a large scratch on his arm heal. He thought of how he had found Mr. Lahey, the scratches in the freezer, and Isaac’s scent. He wanted to ask so many questions, but he didn’t know where to begin. He also wanted to talk about what happened in the woods, if only to confirm that it really happened. And he should call Stiles, see if he’s okay. He’s fairly certain Derek won’t kill him. It was the option with the least emotional toil attached to it, it had just a smidgen of worry. So, he slowly got up, his back still sore, and searched the area for his phone.

 

Margret searched the area for any sign of wolfish life. She stood outside Hale House, she detected the scents of everyone, the other Alphas, the teenager in the basement, and her cousin. Only Derek and the two Betas from the fight were missing, though they weren’t really missing, since, last she checked, they all were in the cemetery, odd but true. The spurt of violence in the woods had ended hours ago and her conversation with Derek left her thinking back to that night, the car accident and everything that had happened after it. 

Perhaps that’s why she didn’t take note of the eerie silence within the relatively full house until she walked through the doorway and spotted her older cousin casually sitting at the bottom of the staircase, laptop on his knees. It was in his stance, the way he glanced up and smirked; he has been waiting for her. 

“All right, out with it.” She felt calmer (and stronger) than she has in years, having killed someone she has wanted to kill since she first gazed down at those crazy eyes. But the strengthening moon was also killing her patience. 

“Have a nice stroll?” Of course, he won’t get right to the point; this is Peter.

“Jealous that Derek is becoming my favorite family member?” She played along. 

“Oh, so you do consider us family then, I had wondered, given the abrupt way in which you left.”

“I have already explained that to you-”

“Yes, yes, those wacky hunters and their destructive ways. Still, to go as far as to leave even your own child behind; that’s cold.” Within seconds, Margret invaded Peter’s personal space, her face hovered over the top of his computer screen. Her eyes dared him to continue with his Satan kissed speech. “What, you didn’t know?” Instead of explaining what the hell he meant, or why he was trying to imply that her unborn son was... well, born, he turned his computer so the screen could face her. She had to back up to look at it. 

There, on the screen, was a birth certificate. It had her name on it, under “maternal parent” and the man she had been engaged to under “paternal parent” and there, right in the center, was a name, a boy’s name... one she had recently heard of. 

Jackson Hale. Except his last name now wasn’t Hale. And given the oddity of the name, the date of birth on the certificate, which was the day after the car crash, there was little chance of there being another 16 year old boy named Jackson currently living in Beacon Hills. 

“But... Vicky said...” 

“And you trust the wife of a hunter over your own family?” That earned him a glare, for more than what he said.

“If this is real, then why wasn’t I told earlier, as in as soon as I arrived?”

“Because, I must confess, I wanted to spend some time with my dear old cousin before she left.”

“And where am I going?” It was like _she_ was 16 again, and her older cousin was talking circles around her, all to say he knew she was the one who ate the frosted letters off of little Laura’s birthday cake, and that he had actually set her up for it. He was once again luring his cousin into trouble, and was now revealing just how finely he had fucked her over. 

“To the same place little Laura went.” Unfortunately, she was no longer sixteen and Peter has become a parricidal maniac. The eerily silent house was suddenly not so silent as Ethan and Aiden now appeared from the kitchen doorway. It took a couple of seconds for it to sink in, for her to truly read the situation. Once she did, she backed away from her cousin. Her dear cousin, who had truly been busy these last few weeks. She had no idea when he had turned her own pack against her, but she understood how. 

Not that it mattered. What matters is that if she didn’t get as far away as she could this very instant, then she really would be joining little Laura in death. 

And so she ran.


	14. Bombastic Mutiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same day/night/early morning as chapters 11, 12 &13\. Margret faces her past. The Argents get a guest, get several guests. Stiles tries to stay sane. Scott tries not to kill. Derek runs a lot. And people die.

_Margret Hale gracefully twirled her keys around her index finger as she waddled to her car. Yes, waddled. Eight months ago, she was a ferocious and thin predator, who could easily rip a person’s throat out if she wanted to. Not that she would. But she could. Now, she was waddling to her car. She could already hear the “puppy” jokes from Peter. And little Derek calling her fat. The other day, he had reasoned that if she didn’t have her baby soon, her tummy will, not “may”, will, explode. She agrees._

_She smiled at the memory of little Derek holding his head against her stomach, excited that soon he would have someone he could boss around/teach things to. She should visit the house after her appointment. And now, she really needed to stop daydreaming or she would be late. Not that there was a slew of pregnant wolf people needing to see Dr. D today. Or ever. The last person to get pregnant in her family was her cousin Talia, and that was with Derek, eight years ago._

_She loaded herself into the vehicle and started it up. She drove for, maybe, an inch before she had to slam on the breaks,; her soon to be husband, or soon to be roadkill, appeared in the driveway with his arms all a wave._

_“What the hell?” she yelled, then rolled her window down, ready to yell again._

_“Sorry, sorry, my car just got a flat. Can you give me a ride to work, please; I can’t be late.” He said as he walked over to the passenger side._

_“I have my appointment with Dr. Deaton right now.” how could he not know this?_

_“I’m sure he can reschedule some cat’s neutering appointment to fit you in in an hour.”_

_“That’s not the point. I have a hundred and fifty other things I need to do in order to get ready for this baby.” Changing tables to buy; blood rituals to do, etc._

_“The only thing you should be doing is resting.” he said as he entered the car._

_“That’s what you made me do yesterday, and now look where we are.” That earned her a laugh and she huffed. She would not kill her husband. She would not kill her husband. BE A GOOD ALPHA; PROTECT YOUR PACK. YOU CAN DO IT. She forced a small smile and she felt herself relax. She moved the car forward again and actually left the driveway this time. “So... a flat tire, huh?”_

_“It was the freakiest thing. I’m driving to work, naturally, and I get to the end of our street when I hear this pop and then the usual screeching sounds that accompany a flat. But I didn’t see anything on the road and it hadn’t felt like I ran over anything. It was like the tire exploded on its own. That’s what I thought, anyway, when I got out. But then,”_

_“What?”_

_“I found an arrow.” Margret almost stopped the car abruptly for a second time. Luckily, there was a stop sign ahead, which gave her a natural reason to pause._

_“What?”_

_“I know it sounds insane, but there was an arrow embedded into the tire. Some medieval freak took out my tire!” To Margret, it didn’t sound insane at all. It put her on edge. Clearly, if her man was here to tell the tale, then he hadn’t been the desired target. She was. But why was she? She hasn’t done anything, in years to incite the wrath of a hunter. She doesn’t even hunt small game anymore. Okay, so there was that one cow a few months back; in her defense, she has been feeling the full effects of the moon for two people over the course of this pregnancy (and she couldn't risk another crazy moon-night run to see Chris again)._

_She also buried that cow, so how would they even know- Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw a family vehicle stop in the opposite lane across the intersection. She sighed, no longer feeling any danger as Gerard Argent and his daughter stared at them, no, at her. Gerard was always one for dramatics. He could never just call up a person he wanted to speak to; no, he had to shoot their frickin’ tires out._

_Time had slowed as they stared each other down. But then it caught up with itself. Then it moved too quickly. Suddenly, there was another van. Even with her enhanced vision, it came too fast, too fast to react or comprehend or panic... she got as far as... woah, that van is going really fast, before it swerved toward and into her slightly smaller vehicle, on her side, at her._

_Her mind went all a fuzz. There was crunching of glass, sparks of... a taser? A car part? She felt electricity course through her, and for a second, she though she was in the ambulance already and she was being resuscitated. But... didn’t one need to stop breathing for that to happen?_

_Then all was quiet and still. She heard high pitched crying and low voices. Victoria? She’s not outside anymore, is she. She said something about loving fathers. Then Margret felt a chill travel up her arm. It was back to the quiet place._

_The cries and voices were gone now. She was sore all over and she could still feel a few shards of glass being pushed out of her side. She couldn’t have been out for long. There was also a much larger soreness, an intimate one, in her abdomen. She forced herself to open her eyes. As if she could see what she no longer felt. She saw that she was alone in some back lot building, like a unfinished room at a construction site; there were plastic sheets for walls surrounding her._

_She was alone, inside and out. And just to throw salt on the wounds, Victoria Argent eventually showed up. At least her hearing wasn’t impaired. She explained that Margret had been attacked, that it hadn’t been an accident, that her fiancé and her child had been killed. Then she, this person who Margret would have pegged for orchestrating this whole horrific event, managed to get her here so she could recover._

_She later helped Margret escape Beacon Hills undetected. She may not have been able to protect her pack, but she would survive. And someday she would return and reign terror down on the Argent house._

 

The problem with saying that he would take care of Jackson was that Derek then had to take care of Jackson. He couldn’t leave him at the police station, and he didn’t thrust the idea of bringing Jackson back to the house, a place surrounded by woods, where teen wolves and hunter wolves apparently run amuck on this night. 

This was all Scott’s fault, if he hadn’t attacked Jackson...

This was all Uncle Peter’s fault, if he hadn’t attacked Scott...

This was all his fault... he should have killed Uncle Peter thoroughly when he had the chance. Yes, if only he had sliced into his Uncle’s throat a little deeper, then he wouldn’t be escorting a bratty Omega (should be his Beta) home. Jackson complained about the cold, the rough ground, and his need to see Isaac. Isaac seems to be some kind of wolf magnet. Derek personally didn’t see the appeal. Sure, if you like the absurdly tall, gangly type... he personally prefers the slightly shorter... wait, no, he didn’t prefer any sort of guy... ever. Usually.

“And my hair is so much better than Scott’s.” Jackson prattled on.

“Shut up. Please.” Derek was close to rounding up all the Betas and locking them in a room together so they could sort out all of their teen angst. As it were, after dropping Jackson off, he did plan to swing by Scott’s house and check in on his apparent stud of a Beta. It really sucked to be Derek right now. 

Derek’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Jackson’s beating heart. More specifically, the increased rate of his beating heart. There was also a SweetTart taste in the air around him. Fear. It got stronger the closer they got to Jackson’s house. 

“Relax, your parents aren’t home.” Derek could tell that much. Just like he could smell his, should be, Beta’s fear of hurting his human family tonight, if given the opportunity. 

“How do you... and what if they... when they come back.”

“The worst of the moon’s pull is over. Lock yourself in your room if you can. You should be fine till morning.” Jackson was obnoxiously unresponsive to what Derek thought was a pretty damn good effort at being comforting. His heartbeat didn’t even bother to slow down. Derek raised his hand to either hit or pat Jackson on the shoulder. The need or the level of contentment that can be found with physical displays of... affection is common in packs. At that thought, Derek’s mind revisited the night he found Scott and Isaac on his front lawn. Leave it to teenagers to dirty up a perfectly innocent, family oriented, wolf related urge to touch and be touched. Derek’s hand returned to his side.

They reached Jackson’s house in uncomfortable silence, but it was hard to tell which one was feeling the discomfort. Jackson's eyes darted everywhere, as if wolves tend to jump out of trees and from behind hedges. Derek was trying to shake the image of a certain shaved headed kid that had suddenly appeared in his mind. He then reiterated to Jackson that all was well and safe and fine and that he would stop by the house in the morning. He then had to actually push Jackson toward his own home. 

With that task done, his mind turned to the next one. He should visit the other Betas, the lovebirds, and then end his night checking on Erica, who he was now grateful had been spared from tonight’s violent events. And what were the Argents doing out in the woods at that time of day anyway? Had they been tracking Victoria? What had Jackson been doing out on the road? He’ll ask him in the m-

Jackson, who had made it inside his house, like the big, brave wolf he was, gave a frightened, pain filled scream that was so loud, the sound echoed in Derek’s ears for entire seconds afterwards. Without thought, Derek ran toward the howl, to his makeshift Beta.

 

Oh look, a time jump.

 

There were a million thoughts racing through Melissa McCall’s mind as she paced the hallway in front of her son’s bedroom door. The bucket with the floating sponge and the mop should have tipped her off that tonight, this early morning, wouldn’t be the usual “check on Scott before bed” kind of deal. For the record, her son was capable of cleaning. He has never volunteered to do it. It all added up evenly in her head. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what had happened to lead to the current situation. Nothing was broken. There was no message from the school or the police on her answering machine. So, it couldn’t be that bad, right? Well... it was bad enough to make him clean; what was bad enough to make him clean? 

At sixteen, it could be a number of things. Sex, drugs, sex, violence outside of the school’s grounds that the police didn’t know about, or sex. She’ll just take one peek in. One peek and she’ll save the yelling for the morning. Melissa stepped up to her son’s bedroom door. Her hand hovered over the doorknob. She opened the door before she could convince herself to just postpone it all until tomorrow. She looked in. She stared in. She took a few steps forward and analyzed the sight before her. 

Well, Scott was in one piece. The was a large dent in the wall. Now the cleaning, sort of, kind of made sense, if she tried to see it from a sixteen year old boy’s perspective. Damage the wall, mop the floor and maybe mom won’t be so mad. Sure. But it wasn’t the mini boulder sized dent that worried her, or filled her with the need to play fifty questions with her son. It was the fact that her boy was sharing his bed with, what looked to be, another boy. 

Now is not the time to jump to conclusions. Reason one: he shares his bed with Stiles all the time. Has she ever caught them cuddling like that? That is a cuddle, she knows a cuddle when she sees it. Sure an arm or a leg can overlap during the night, but someone’s entire upper body doesn’t accidentally shift onto someone else’s. Reason two: Scott is in love with Allison. She was pretty sure there would have been some dramatic revelation and announcement over the breakfast or dinner table, if the love had died. Reason three: assuming she IS correct with her first conclusion, that the love had died and now her son had moved onto another, what should she even do? This completely changes the script for when they have “the talk”, now she needs to go find a new one. And what about now? If this was a girl, she would be yelling right now. Should she yell? She doesn’t want to give Scott the wrong idea. She’s not against her son having a boyfriend. She’s against her baby boy having sex with anyone in his big boy bed. He’s not ready for this; he still can’t remember to put the cap back on the toothpaste tube. 

She’s getting carried away. She needs to sleep and approach this situation again, in the morning, or the rest of the world’s late afternoon. Yeah, let’s do that. Melissa turned around and quietly made her way to her own bedroom. Her last thought on the matter was perhaps she could find a way to guilt trip Scott into cleaning her room too. 

 

Scott woke up to the lingering scent of his mother. Out of habit, he glanced at his alarm clock and it read 3 AM, yup, Mom was home. Time to go back to sleep. His eyes also drifted to the giant dent still in his wall. That got him to snap his eyes open. Had Mom seen that? Why wasn’t she yelling at him? He tried to sit up and push the blankets off of himself, only to have his fingers drag across Isaac’s bare back instead. Isaac let out a small, sleepy groan of discontent. Everything else that had happened yesterday came back to Scott, and he honestly didn’t know what to focus on first. Isaac’s leg shifting so it grazed against his inner thigh gave him a pretty good idea. Scotty, you perverted cow. He could have easily given Isaac a pair of his pajamas when he had insisted they take their bloodied clothes off last night... a few hours ago. But he didn’t. And he now wondered how one gets blood stains out of clothes. Bleach, right? Bleach works for everything. 

Isaac stretched his hand out against Scott’s chest and Scott forgot what he had just been thinking about. 

“Hey.”

“Mmm.” Isaac slowly picked his head up and Scott wanted to squish and kiss and lick every inch of it. Isaac’s eyes slowly widened as he took him in. “What?” Scott didn’t reply with words. He pulled Isaac up by hooking his hands under his armpits. Isaac slid forward. Heads tiled and mouths collided as tongues reached out for lips. Scott’s hands traveled down Isaac’s still bared back, then they couldn’t reach any further. 

“You’re too tall.” he complained as Isaac’s mouth moved across his jaw. Isaac shifted his body so he was completely on top of Scott. Isaac’s inner thighs were pressed against Scott’s outer ones. Scott’s temperature raised a bit higher and he knew it wasn’t just because of Isaac’s added heat. And he knew he wasn’t the only one to notice the warmest part of his body, which, though covered with blue boxer shorts, was touching the equally warm and hardening part of Isaac. Isaac emphasized his knowledge of the contact with a roll of his hips. Scott forgot how to breathe. Was it out then in? In then out? God, stop thinking the words “in” and “out”! And... oh, yeah. “Right there.” Isaac ground into him again and again. Scott’s cock sizzled with sensation. 

And just like in the movies, the soundtrack started. 

I'm happy. I'm feeling glad. I got sunshine, in a bag.

How ironic that the soundtrack to this moment sounded just like his ringtone for that cock blocking... Scott refocused just in time to stop Isaac from throwing his still singing phone across the room. 

“Don’t. It’s your Derek.” Then Scott physically winced for using the phrase “your Derek.” Understandably, he didn’t greet Derek in the kindest of voices. Can Alphas sense when their Betas, or Betas in general, are about to... Scott heard what Derek had to growl at him on the other end. He sat up straighter the longer Derek talked. Isaac rolled off of him, off of the bed, and he started opening drawers and pulling out shirts. When Derek finished talking, Scott said, “We’re on our way.” And he quickly got out of bed to do just that. 

 

His phone vibrating against his leg is what woke Stiles up. Though given his surroundings, for a moment, he sleep filled mind threw out the suggestion that it could also be a rat humping his leg. It was that thought that really woke him up. Before he could utter the words “be gone, sex fiend”, his phone vibrated again. When he saw that it was Scott, he had to resist chucking his phone. Of course, now that all the danger was gone, his friend decides to call. 

“Did you ever hear of bros before hoes, Dude. Not that I’ll calling... what?... What? Now? How? I’m stuck in... what can I do? I’m only... Fine. Fine! I’m on my way.” Stiles pressed the end button and he dragged himself onto his feet. Right. He was on the way... how, the heck , was he gonna get there? First off, he was locked in, he tugged on the door of the cell to make sure, well, he THOUGHT he had been locked in the cell. So, all this time he could have left, gone home, and slept in his own bed? Whatever help they needed today, he would be sure not to provide Derek with any. 

Secondly, how was he suppose to get there? His jeep was still on the side of the road, miles from here. And all the cops, including his dad (and besides the limping cop that Stiles now quickly walked past) were still out investigating those mass drownings. The only cars that were even around were cop vehicles.

Well, like they say, when in Rome. 

 

Allison was dreaming of some faraway land, one with a castle that had an authentic moat and drawbridge. She was wielding this long, shining, well sharpened sword and she was pretty sure she was a dude. Something crashed and broke behind her. It was loud, louder than anything that should be possible.

Loud enough to wake her from her dream. She sat up and tried to search out the sound. The only light in her room was from the full moon outside. There was enough light to see half of her room. It was enough to make out the being under her windowsill, the monster with red, to the point of glowing, eyes. This would be Allison’s cue to scream if she was an ordinary girl. Allison shifted to the edge of her bed and grabbed her trusty crossbow and the arrow that laid beside it. She loaded. Aimed. And shot. She hit the beast’s shoulder as it came toward her. Unfortunately, after the hit, and after she realized the rest of her arrows were in her closet, the monster continued coming toward her. It came faster this time, she only had time to close her eyes and await the pain as it sunk it’s claws into her... hair. It grabbed a chunk of her hair and dragged her out of bed. She could now tell it was a wolf person. She screamed as she was pulled out of her room and into the dimly lit hallway. 

They met her panic-eyed, gun wielding father in the hallway. Even while still being held, Allison felt better, safer now. She could now see that the lady was about her height, but she was definitely older. Allison thought she knew who all the werewolves of Beacon Hills were. And why was Dad not attacking?

“Does your daughter shoot all your house guests?” The wolf lady asked. Allison didn’t like how familiar this supposed stranger was composing herself. And did Dad just smirk... who is this lady?

“Just the wolves.” Chris Argent’s voice broke off a bit at the word “wolves”. Any mirth that had been in his eyes a moment ago was long gone as he continued to stare down the intruder. 

“I’m sorry about Vicky.” 

Chris aggressively waved his gun as he bit out, “Don’t.” his hand stilled as he added, “Let her go.” After a beat, the unwanted house guest did. Upon release, Allison quickly moved to stand slightly behind her father. How did this lady know about Mom?... Well, it was on the news...

“Are you going to shoot me, Chris?”

“I should.”

“But are you?” The way she looked at her father was as if she was asking something else, something besides “are you going to kill me” and it had an answer that would leave her feeling sad, not scared. Allison has heard her parents threatening the Hales time and again, enough to know that this wasn’t normal wolf and hunter banter. It was almost as if... her Dad lowered his gun, and the second he did, she added, “I need your help; there isn’t much time.”

“Why should I help you?”

“For the same reason you won’t shoot me.” Did something happen _before_ Allison literally got dragged out of bed. She felt as if she had just walked into the middle of a conversation, but she has been present the whole time. It was like... the stranger wolf lady looked straight at Allison, “You got any more arrows for that crossbow?”

“What?”

“Margret, what is going on?” And that clinched it. Maybe “friend” still didn’t apply, but the adults standing in front of Allison were certainly acting as if they had _history_.

“Not enough time to explain, they’ll be here any minute.” Margret walked past the Argents and down the stairs. “You’ve got a nice house, Chris.” Chris Argent turned to his daughter.

“Go call the other hunters. Tell them to get here now.”

“Dad, what’s going on?”

“I’m going to go find out.” Chris turned to do just that.

“Who is she?” Fear and slight panic laced his daughter’s words. He turned back around.

“Just go do as I say, Allison,” He closed the space between them. “It’s going to be okay, but I need you to be strong right now, okay? Can you do that for me?” Allison slowly nodded once. “That’s my girl.” Chris squeezed his daughter’s arm, gave her one last instruction of, “stay upstairs.”, and turned to go get more answers from their unique home invader.

Chris found her in the kitchen, by the back door; she was looking out. She didn’t even bother turning around as he entered. But she did say, “How many hunters are in Beacon Hills?”

“Why is your pack after you?”was Chris’s reply. It may have been years, but Chris could already piece together much of what was going on simply based on what he knew about Margret. She wouldn’t be running from hunters. Even if that were the case, she wouldn’t run to _him_. So, what he wanted to know was why, why was her own pack hunting her down?

“Look, I didn’t come here to get questioned.”

He slowly asked. “Why are you here?” She finally turned around. 

“You mean, why here, your house? Or, why here, alive?”

“You didn’t think I’d want to know? We didn’t even have a body to bury.” Now it wasn’t just tonight, but sixteen years worth of questions were swimming around Chris’s head. 

“You might soon enough, if your friends don’t get here.” She looked back towards the door. 

“Margret, look at me.” Chris brought himself up to his full height as he gave the command. Yet, his shoulders sagged again as she did as she was told. “ I want... I need answers. I deserve answers.”

“CliffsNotes answer: your family tried to kill me sixteen years ago. They failed. They also failed to kill my son; a fact I have barely had time to process, what with the pack of power-hungry wolves seeking to rip me to shreds even as I stand here speaking. Now, are you going to point me to where you keep your guns or are we going to chit chat until their arrival?” 

“Why me? Why here?” Danger, heh, a son, heh, Chris Argent knows not these things. All he knew was that someone he could hardly describe, never ignore, will always want, can spontaneously and achingly miss at the drop of a hat, or at the flash of red eyes, was standing before him. He didn’t believe it, out in the woods and it was still hard to believe now. 

He has imagined a moment like this a thousand times. 

The car wreck was always explained away. Just like it was moments ago. Through the thousands of versions, all the hows, whys, ifs and what nows were explained and thoroughly discussed to the point that it felt like he already knew the answers. They already had this conversation. He shouldn’t be surprised to see his, once thought dead, old lover standing in his kitchen and asking him where he keeps the guns. Victoria’s fleeting resurrection and overkill aside, hadn’t they been through all this already? 

In reality, they hadn’t. In reality, Chris was going through mental shock. Adrenaline had guided his thoughts and actions upstairs, but now he was taking stock, he was, in real time, listening, taking in the situation, and processing what it all meant. And frankly, all of it was fucking with his head. 

“Is there another hunter family in town who can handle this better?”

“You know what I’m asking.”

“I was just trying to keep my family safe.”

“By running away?”

“By removing myself from the situation, which, up until five years ago, seemed to do the trick.”

“You should have told me.”

“And what would have happened if I had?” Freaky, mental deja vu was currently happening. After the car wreck would be explained, a mental representation of Margret would show up a week, a month, a year afterward, and she would ask that very question.

The answer, “I wouldn’t have let you leave.” Margret opened and shut her mouth. Then she sighed.

“We really don’t have time for this.” It was the last thing Margret wanted to say. She wanted to have this talk, to bring up the past, to say the unneeded things, what she already knew, but desperately needed to hear. The elephant named “despite it all, I still love you” would have to remain in the corner of the room. For at this moment, she stood still and took in the rapidly approaching scents of someone quite familiar and another someone who she hadn’t paid much attention to the day before, but now gave her full attention to. Derek was on his way; so was her son.... okay, so maybe there was one thing that needed to be said. Now.

“I know, but-” Chris was saying.

“This might be a fucked up time, but seeing as how this might be my last night alive-” Just cut to the point, tell him about-

“Don’t say that.”

“Promise me that you’ll-” Shit, it was too late. Derek and Jackson were on the lawn, but the faster, jackrabbit of a wolf, Peter, was already in the living room. Margret’s fingernails sharpened and elongated. “Keep Jackson safe.”

“Jackson?” Instead of answering, she walked passed Chris, out of the kitchen and greeted her cousin in the living room. She had expected his arrival, but not so soon, and not alone. After all, she hadn’t spent most of the night running all over the place, making the entire town, and most of the two towns near here, carry her scent, for kicks. 

“Well aren’t you a clever asshole.” She knew there wouldn’t be an immediate attack. There was no way Peter could best her. For the moment, she was quite grateful for her cousin’s pompous, premature entrance, where he will most likely use the time to monologue, gloat, and give character motivations so his actions don’t seems so contrived or his villainy so one-noted. His grand standing would give Chris time to deal with Derek, and by extension, Jackson. It bought time for the other hunters, who Allison had just hung up the phone with, to get here. The bad guys don’t lose because they are bad, or weaker; it is because they don’t know when to shut up. 

“More like an observant one.” Yup, he was going to talk.

“What gave me away?” She asked, her cousin pointed to his neck. Her hand went to her own and she felt the multicolored necklace there. She didn’t know who she was more angry with, him or herself.

“I get why the others are after me, but I never took you as a power hungry sociopath.” 

“People change. I know I changed after our home was burned down by the very people you take refuge with.”

“So you seek revenge by continuing to kill your own, what kind of wolf person are you?”As the seconds ticked away, Margret began to relax. As the seconds ticked away, Derek and her son got closer, and the rest of the Alpha pack still haven’t been detected in the area.

“Says the one who makes babies with hunters.” A quick glance behind showed Chris in the doorway with a gun in his hand and it was raised at Peter. Feet on the stairs alerted to Allison’s decent and Chris had to leave the bickering wolves for the moment. The words “I told you to stay upstairs” could be heard. In all the ways she has envisioned her reunion with Chris, having it in the middle of fighting with an Alpha pack and her cousin, who was moments away from being reunited with her, with their, once thought dead, son, was never in her range of possibilities. And she has seen a shit load of crazy in the past sixteen years. 

She and Peter had gotten a lot closer from when the conversation had started. Peter opened his mouth, most likely to make a similar remark to the one he had just made.

Margret cut him off with, “Leave him out of this.”

“Him, him who? Chris? Or do you mean Jackson? Because I’m afraid I can’t do either. I’m sorry to say, I want them both dead.”

“Do you really think we’ll allow that?”

“We?”

“We.” New voice! It was Derek. A quick survey told Margret her son was also in the house, but upstairs. Good. 

“Why nephew, so glad you could join us. I need you to hear this as well. You need to know.”

“Know what?”

“Know why you should be on my side. Why you should be trying to kill her too. Your beloved Margret protects the very people who destroyed our family. It was the Argents who drove her out of town, away from us. It was the Argents who burned down our home, killed our family. And I’m the only one who did ANYTHING about it. I least, I knew I could after you ironically tried to turn Jackson.” 

“You bit my son?” 

“Jackson’s your son? What?” From Derek’s point of view, he has been running on cognitive fumes as it is, and now this? He had been chasing a frantic, howling Jackson all over town, and the chase led him to the second floor of the Argent house, where they were then attacked by Allison Argent. Luckily, he had the forethought to call Isaac once he saw Jackson jump onto the roof of the house. He had a feeling he would need the help. Unluckily, Isaac had shut off his phone, so Derek had to call Scott instead. 

He was able to subdue Allison... knock her out, really, but not before she shot some wolfsbane laced dart at Jackson. All and all, Derek just wanted to carry the seemingly suicidal teen out of there, but the voices of his family members had drawn him downstairs instead. Well, Isaac or Scott could take care of Jackson once they got here.

And now, things where still making the kind of sense that doesn’t, but at least he now knows why Jackson took off. He was running after or toward his mother. 

“Wait, what do you mean, “you did something about it”? What did you do?” Margret addressed Peter. By now, he was standing between Derek and Margret, but he also couldn’t look calmer.

“Me? I did what you should have done. I killed Gerard. I killed Kate. I destroyed the people who destroyed our family.”

“Jackson killed them when he was...” Derek trailed off. More pieces were fitting together. All this time, behind his back... and here he thought that the attempted murder had made his uncle less dangerous. 

“That’s right, Jackson, a true Hale, achieved justice for our family. And it’s all thanks to me.”

“The way you put it, it sounds like it’s all thanks to Derek.” Margret pointed out.

“I will thank Derek for bringing your son here. It’ll make killing you all, a lot easier.” 

Derek questioned, “What? Why do you want to kill us?”

“Because I’m a power hungry sociopath.” Peter was now close enough to the other two to strike out. He didn’t strike with his hands but with needles that had been dipped in the carefully collected and saved paralyzing liquid that had once come from Lizard Jackson, er, Kanima Jackson. The needles found their targets; the victims collapsed. Margret fought against it. Through her travels, she has grown more resistant to various forms of wolfsbane, mountain ash, and the urge to eat people during a full moon. Rare lizard liquid is harder to build up immunity to. 

This didn’t stop her from trying. This didn’t stop her from standing up again. This didn’t stop her from raising her arm and bringing it, claws and all, across the throat of her shocked cousin. His expression remained that way as his head fell back, rolled off of his shoulders and onto the floor. His body collapsed to the ground shortly after.

“And that, dear Derek, is how you kill someone.” However, not even the daughter of two Alphas could withstand the poison pumping through her much longer; she went down a second time. This time, Chris came back into view, he had an arm around his daughter, who placed a hand to the back of her head. The sound of the front door bursting open came next. Wolf people. Teenagers. Later, She’d blame the paralysis for misreading the one ordinary human, who came into view with the two teenaged wolves. 

 

It was Stiles’s job to get a hold of his dad or someone on the police force, to get some law enforcement to the Argent house and hopefully prevent any bloodshed. Who might be in danger of bleeding had been left out of the commands that Scott had given him as soon as he woke up that... really early morning. Honestly though, it wasn’t the sun that needed to come up, but the moon, which runs on its own cycle, that needed to go down. They could be fighting wolf people till midday, if his earlier incident with Jackson had taught him anything. 

Many phone calls and angry and pleading and begging and whining voice messages later, and Stiles could not, did not, get a hold of a single cop in town. He then glared at Isaac after he had asked about the state police. Maybe if Stiles had slept in Scott’s bed, instead of a jail cell floor, he too could come up with logical ideas. He took his phone out as the other two barged into the Argent House. These people really ought to move if they don’t want to keep getting attacked. Then, he almost dropped that same phone when he took in the sight in the living room. 

 

Scott’s eyes never even glanced toward the living room, though he felt Isaac and Stiles go in there. His attention was on the Argents standing before him in the hallway. Mainly Allison. He read pain and that old habit of caring about her came back.

“Are you okay?” He stepped forward as if to check her head himself. Chris Argent held his daughter back and stood between the two. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Derek called. He said Jackson was running amuck all over town and that he broke into here... please tell me you know what I’m talking about.” Scott asked as a creepy deja vu feeling came over him. He should get Allison’s phone number. Start by texting “are you in any danger” first. Then barge into her house. 

“He’s upstairs.” Sleeping peacefully on his daughter’s bedroom floor, Chris left out. The only information he had to go on was that a pack of werewolves was currently after Margret and she specifically wanted Jackson protected. His brain was screaming something else at him. Making babies with hunters. Margret had been pregnant at the time, but as far as he knew, the guy she married, had been with, hadn’t been a hunter.

Chris Argent seemed to have checked out after he pointed Scott upstairs. Scott was now torn between checking on Allison and going upstairs to Jackson. 

Glass breaking in the kitchen made an option C for him. 

 

Isaac looked up from where he and Stiles had settled Margret on the couch when he heard the glass break. Stiles nodded at him to go. That was when they heard howling from the front yard. In an instant, Isaac was on his feet. Peter had been killed, his old Alpha, he means, his still Alpha laid on the floor, unconscious, and the weakened Margret had been nice to him, healed him. That’s it; it’s murdering time. He barely registered Scott yelling his name as he charged toward the front door. 

 

Scott nodded to Chris, who headed for the kitchen. Allison nodded and went through some other door in the house, either to hide or to get more weapons; Scott didn’t stick around to find out. He went after Isaac. 

 

Margret awoke with a jerky jolt. She couldn’t feel the left side of her body. Stroke? No. Poison. Her brain played catch up as she tried to sit up. The ordinary human was there and he put his hand on her chest and he told her to relax. 

“There bunch- there are a bunch of homicidal maniacs on their way to kill me, Kid, I can’t relax.”

 

“Fair enough.” Stiles tried to keep calm. He had been brought here under false pretenses. Scott had said that Derek had said that Jackson had broken into the Argent house. They were to retrieve him. 

The fucking dude wasn’t even here.

Stiles backed up as Margret started to stand, for she also started to grow hair on her face and claws on her hands. The back of Stiles’s leg hit something. He looked down at Peter’s severed head. He squealed. He dashed to the right. His left foot knocked into the still prone body of Derek. He looked down and Derek glared up at him. As more howls erupted from the front yard, Stiles realized he would soon be alone with a paralyzed, and how did _that_ happen, werewolf. which is just as dangerous as being all alone while the killer werewolves surrounded the house. With that in mind, he slowly inched towards Margret’s direction as she slowly headed out of the room. This night will give him nightmares for the rest of his life.

“Hey, Stiles, get back here!” Derek mumbled from the floor. Stiles returned and threw a pillow towards him, then he continued on his way out. The other Alphas may not kill Derek if they think he’s dead. And they won’t think he’s dead if he doesn’t shut up. Another great reason was he really wanted to throw something at Derek; it’s his fault Stiles is even here. He finally entered the hallway, where Margret wasn’t. Great. More crashing and thudding and smacking sounds came from the kitchen. Perhaps following the only sane Alpha wasn’t such a good idea. He looked around for a weapon, only to almost get hit by the door to his left swinging open. He was a dead man if it was a werewolf. He’s a lucky son of a lovely lady. Allison had now entered and she had a bow on her back and two finger dagger things in her hands. She glanced at Stiles, bent down, pulled a knife from inside her boot, and handed it to Stiles. Stiles accepted it. They headed for the kitchen.

The kitchen was quiet by the time they arrived. Allison ran to her Dad who was sitting on the floor and up against a wall. He looked to be bleeding from his shoulder and he had a cut on his head. The back door was wide open and standing in the glow of the kitchen light was a headless body of a big person. Stiles walked back to Allison and her dad. He was going to need more than a knife. 

 

Scott wished he had a knife he could throw or a gun. Anything he could use to attack from far away. He has never fought such a big man before. Then again, Scott doesn’t fight a lot. Though, these days... anyway, he thought he and Isaac were at a disadvantage at first, with it being three against two. Then he thought it was a bit better when the brother wolves combined into one Mega Alpha. Werewolves can do that? Can he do that with Isaac? Now was not the time to try sticking his hand into his boyfriend’s back. Now was the time to duck and roll and not get hit. As it turns out, two on two really isn’t fair when one is a Tai-Bo loving, kicking Alpha (one person, twice the claws), and the other is now a mega Alpha. As soon as Scott thought he found an opening to hit one, he would have to move away in order to dodge getting hit by the other. 

He was also at a disadvantage because his foolhardy, courageous boyfriend had been sent flying across the lawn about twenty seconds into the fight, and has yet to get back up (so it’s really been two on one for the most part). Oh wait, there he goes. And Scott’s constant checking, had now cost him a blow to the stomach by the mega Alpha. The next hit was to his head, large claws dragged across his face. Mega Alpha raised his hand for another strike, but he got an arrow to his shoulder instead. There was a loud screech of tires that followed. Wonderful, the hunters are here. The next arrow hit Scott’s right thigh. Shit, the hunters are here. 

“Not me!” He uselessly yelled. It was useless because he still had to hobble, jump, and roll out of the way of the next flying arrow. The only upside to the hunters arriving was now Mega Alpha had stopped beating him up and had turned their, or his, attention to the vehicle. The woman Alpha also ran over and then onto the van. Mega Alpha ripped his arrow out and he stormed over as well. Isaac made it to Scott’s side.

“You’re hurt.” he said, indicating the arrow still embedded in Scott’s thigh. Or maybe he meant the other cuts and bruises that were still in different stages of healing.

“I’m okay. Are you hurt?”Isaac moved his head forward and to the side. Then he looked down. He shook his head slightly as he looked back up and smiled.

“You’re something else.” was his answer.

“Something good though, right?” Before Isaac could reply, the body of the woman wolf landed in front of them, effectively taking Scott out of his Isaac bubble and back into the real world where a massive fight was still going on. Woman Wolf sprang back up and she looked right at Scott and Isaac and growled. Isaac growled back. Scott frantically tried to remove the arrow from his thigh. 

 

After saving Chris and beheading Ennis, Margret made her way to the front of the house. She needed the extra seconds to heal. And to gain more control over her body; she still had no feeling in her left leg and left hand. By the time she made it to the front yard, a large black van had pulled up. People with arrows and guns, hunters, came out firing their weapons. No one had noticed Margret enter the yard yet. She watched Kali jump onto the van and the unified twins got close too, only to get hit with arrows and bullets. Not that that slowed them down. Kali took out the guy shooting from the roof. She flung him into the street. The twins ran straight into the van and started lifting it up and tipping it over. When Kali came close enough to her, Margret grabbed her by her hair, with her good arm, and tossed her aside. 

Kali didn’t look back at her attacker. Instead, she looked to her closer, new targets. If she had looked back, she would have seen Stiles entering the front lawn a little ways behind where Margret was. She may have seen Allison entering next. She might have seen the arrow get placed in the bow and then fired straight at her. She didn’t. So it was quite a shock for her as she lifted her leg up to do a round house kick at Scott, only to feel an arrow pierce her back. 

 

The next arrow caused a gigantic bright light to explode from the ground once it landed. Again, Scott felt like the newcomers were hurting, instead of helping, his chances of surviving this fight. He reached out for Isaac; he felt air. But before he could panic, he felt Isaac’s hand on his arm. When his vision cleared, Woman Wolf, Kali, that was her name, was exchanging blows with Margret. Allison was pointing her arrow at the both of them. Stiles was running toward him.

Stiles yelled at him to get down. He felt Isaac pull him down. He saw Stiles lift his arm and aim a taser. He then shot the taser. It went over Scott and Isaac’s bodies and planted itself into the mega twins. The twins got electrocuted to the point of collapsing into their two separate forms. Scott wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Isaac got up and he helped Scott up and they both backed away from the bodies and Stiles stood next to them. Nods of greeting and gratitude were exchanged.

Scott still had the arrow from his leg in his hand and he raised it as soon as he saw one of the twins sit up. An arrow flew, from Allison, and it hit the sitting twin in his chest. He simply looked down at it. Scott dropped his arrow. He saw that Stiles was holding a knife now and he took it from him.

“Hey!” his best friend protested. Scott responded by flinging the knife at the twin. It wasn’t until it left his hand that he realized what he had just done, where he had aimed. He was able to breathe again when the butt of the knife hit the larger twin on the forehead. He went down again. As dangerous as the situation was, Scott refused to become like them, to kill. He needed something else to throw to knock them out (at least until the police or some government agency that handled killer wolf people came), like a rock. 

Somebody forgot to tell Isaac about the no kill thing. He charged towards the fallen twins, picked up the knife, and raised it above the recently beaten twin’s head. Aiden, that was his name. 

“Isaac, stop!” Scott yelled. Isaac did. He looked up with yellow eyes that were quickly fading to blue. Scott wasn’t even sure when his own transformation had taken place, though he was sure that removing the arrow would have gone more smoothly if his elongated, pointy fingernails hadn’t gotten in the way at the time. Aiden started to raise up again, as did Ethan. Then the larger twin grabbed Isaac’s wrist.

And that was when the shot rang out; it sounded louder than all the shots he heard when he had first entered the yard.

It caused all the wolves to flinch at the sound. Scott located the shooter, a hunter from the van, and was still by the van. Either this was a rather short battle or the wolves were moving much faster than everybody else. Scott could follow the aim of the shooter. For half a second, he came to the conclusion that Isaac had been hit. Then he heard one twin scream.

“Aiden!” Aiden let go of Isaac’s wrist and he fell back onto the ground. The noise and the shout seemed to still all the action. In the silence, a new sound came. One that continued to still the wolves, and in turn, made the ordinary humans wait as well. It was an eerie scene to see most of the people on the lawn turn to the same direction. Scott also turned in the direction of the new sound, to the sound to the police sirens. For a moment, the assortment of enemies looked at each other. The fight couldn’t continue, but it wouldn’t be wise to be the first one(s) to turn your back and flee, either. 

The hunters from the van were the first to pack up. Kali moved next, she yelled at Ethan to follow her. He didn’t budge. She went right up to him, Isaac wisely kept still, and she dragged Ethan away, down the street and away. Margret, over to Scott’s right, was the last to leave. She looked back at the occupants on the lawn once, at the whole house itself, and then she turned and ran off. Thirty seconds later, the first of three police vehicles came down the street. 

At 9 AM, the sheriff of Beacon Hills and a few other officers responded to a domestic disturbance call. As soon as he heard the address, the sheriff decided to check his phone. Sure enough, he had missed a few calls from his son. It was the messages that got him in his car without making any decisions with his officers about who should come with him or what they would do when they got there. All that was done while he drove. 

When he got there, there were four people, teenagers, standing on the front lawn. He spotted his son among them. There were also two bodies on the lawn and one in the middle of the street. He went from slightly worried, to the extreme side of worry, to angry, to what he now felt as he got out of the car, marched up to his stuttering son, grabbed him, and pulled him into an embrace. After a few moments, he pulled back. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. They left. The attackers, they all left.”

“Who? Who attacked you?” His son opened and shut his mouth. He looked to his friends. “Stiles?”

“Werewolves, wolf people. Wolf people attacked us. Didn’t really get their names.” Stiles really didn’t want his father to try and take down Alpha werewolves. 

“Does this have anything to do with the attack back in September?”

“What? No.” That was about lizard Jackson being an Argent killing machine. This was totally different. This was pure wolf on wolf fighting, and why was he even here? Or Scott, for that matter?

“Are the Hales involved in this? Peter or Derek?” Peter’s head flashed through Stiles’s mind. Don’t think about it!

“No! Peter... Derek... where’s Derek? Oh.”

“What “oh”?” The other officers were already moving toward the house, so all would be known soon enough. 

“Forget-” He was cut off by Allison’s yell. It drew everyone’s attention and it brought a couple of officers over to her. 

“Call an ambulance!” The Sheriff yelled to someone as he walked passed his son and over to the Argents. Allison Argent kneeled beside her father, who laid on the ground with a bloody hand to an even bloodier side of his body. The rest of him was quite pale. The other teenagers lingered nearby. 

Isaac tugged on Scott’s arm, pulling his gaze away from the father/daughter scene.

“Look” Isaac held his hand up. At first, Scott didn’t see anything. He was expecting to see a cut or something. And then he saw it, a small, white thing landed on Isaac’s hand. “It’s snowing.” When, the hell, did it start snowing? There wasn’t any snow on the ground, so it has to be within the last couple of minutes. Maybe it was the snow, but Scott was beginning to feel calmer as well, his mental sentences slightly dulled, became less frantic. He watched Isaac watch the snow. He saw his face brighten. He looked back. “And look, the moon is going down.” Scott looked over.

“So it is.”

“The full moon is over.” Scott gave a small smile as Isaac continued to look at the setting moon. He looked back at Allison and her father, at Aiden’s body, at the body of the hunter in the street, and he no longer found comfort in the arrival of a new day. 

After all, today was the first day of the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This marks the end of the second act of the story. Personally, I hate this chapter; it took the longest to get right (some scene had several, upon several different versions), and it’s one of the longest (roughly 9,100 words). 
> 
> Just to recap, for the past 24 hours or so, Boyd, random hunter number one, Victoria, Peter, Ennis, random hunter number two, and Aiden, all died (plus all those drownings). I’m so sick of writing fight scenes. 
> 
> But, hey, stick around for the last act/leg of the story (only five chapters to go), with *checks outline* more wolves, more drama (for everyone, even Danny), more deaths... and more fight scenes... Fine. Challenge accepted.


	15. Magic Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just your typical school day for Scott; one with sweet candy and boy drama. And then there is this after school special segment, where the drama continues and, you know, someone dies.

The horrendous night was over. Many people died. Some drowned around town, while others were found in and around the Argent property. Scott found himself in the middle of it all, scrambling for an explanation as to why he (and Stiles and Isaac) were, once again, caught up in the middle of a wolf people/ hunter battle, one that had literally taken place on the front lawn. And in the back yard. And in the living room. He also had to explain why Jackson had been found knocked out in Allison’s bedroom. All this tale spinning was made harder by the lack of sleep and coffee and sanity. He tried his best and, much to Isaac’s annoyance, he went the damsel route. The story was Allison had called him, was scared because someone (Jackson) had broken into her house and attacked her. So, naturally, Scott and crew came to the rescue. Of course, they weren’t expecting to meet so many dangerous people when they got there. It was a pretty solid explanation.

The Sheriff then asked why Jackson had broken into the Argent house. And who killed Peter, and about all the other dead people. The Sheriff missed his calling as a detective.

Stiles answered: Jackson was and is clearly insane. He was even seen earlier that night laying around, butt naked. He has crazy coming out his ears. Who knows, Peter was already dead when they got there (Scott was still waiting for the remorse to hit. Untrusting as he had seemed, especially if Derek's’ story is to be believed) he was still his (unwanted) Alpha. That means something right? The interruption ends here). For the last bit of his dad’s question, it was werewolf on werewolf action. They killed each other. Stiles doesn’t know where that other hunter came from. He is lucky just to have made it out alive. There were arrows and bullets flying everywhere. Arrows. And. Bullets. 

With all the accused murderers long gone, there was no one to press charges against, though the Argents did get all of their weaponry seized. At least the stuff that was obviously meant for killing wolf people (anything laced with wolfsbane, and Scott may have pointed out the flash arrows; he really hates those things).

The Argents really need to think about moving. 

The news broke to the rest of the town in the following days. The citizens of Beacon Hills had no problem believing that a bunch of rouge wolf people, led by the once thought to be a hero, Peter Hale, who was really just a cliché, out of control wolf person, tried to kill a bunch of people during a full moon. Totally plausible. They were even blamed for the magic water deaths. That made absolutely no sense, as pointed out by one of the more out spoken advocates from the EHERA support group. Oh yes, EHERA supporters came, and just as a refresher, that stands for Enhanced Human Equal Rights Act. These, quite well organized, supporters are advocates for equality for people with enhancements. They came and basically interrogated everyone (equally). See, when wolf people are out slaughtering other people and there is attempted murdering all around, law forbade, that anyone who needs to pay close attention to the lunar cycle (and isn’t an astronaut) get his or her rights violated in the process. For shame. 

Even with the televised, heated debate on the basic cable station for the town, people still blamed the wolves for everything. It sounded better than the truth. And the truth was that even with all the psycho wolf people that really had been running amuck (Scott refuses to include Isaac in this) that night, they weren’t to blame for the drownings. Even with the killer Alphas dead or having run off, there was still something remaining in town that was killing people. The only upside is that, miraculously, and this really doesn’t help a wolf person’s case, there have not been any further drowning victims in the past two months. The night of the crazy full moon was the last night anyone in town died of supernatural or superhuman causes.

The last couple of full moons have been uneventful. Scott mainly spends them at the subway station, helping Derek lock up Erica and try to convince Isaac he isn’t “trapped”, yet he also can’t go outside. Oh, yeah, Derek now lives in an abandoned subway train. He took the, fortunate to have been locked in a basement cell on crazy full moon night and, therefore, avoided all danger, Erica, with him to live in the abandoned subway train. Isaac moved in too. Derek would have just gotten an apartment, but the whole point of leaving the Hale House was to get off the grid in case Kali or Ethan came back to avenge their fellow pack mates. You can’t accomplish that in a flat with a view. 

Speaking of views... Scott was waking up to a lovely one. The glory of having Mom on the nightshift, and an enhanced wolf person as a boyfriend, is he can easily sneak in and out of Scott’s room via his window. Scott understood that, for whatever reason, Isaac became more loyal to Derek after the crazy full moon night, and therefore he mainly lived with him. No, Scott is not jealous. He also understood how much it must suck to sleep in a subway train. So his bedroom window remains open. Or, at least, it is for a little while. It IS winter. December to be exact. Coming up on a three month anniversary to be super exact. 

Scott kissed the hand attached to the arm which was draped around him. It resulted in Isaac rubbing his forehead deeper into Scott’s shoulder. His boyfriend for a quarter of a year didn’t like to be confined, which meant he didn’t like covers or comforters. But it was still winter and Scott’s radiator only worked so well. This usually meant waking up in the middle of the night to Isaac unconsciously sliding his body closer and to the point of being on top of Scott. 

Today was no exception.

Scott ran his free hand through Isaac’s hair. It was so thick. Like a girl’s. An image of Allison flashed through his mind and his hand stilled. Scott didn’t know how he felt about her anymore. No, he did. He just didn’t like that he still felt something for her. It made him think dark thoughts. He had no interest in men before he was bitten. Would he have fallen for Isaac if he hadn’t been? Would they be close to a three month anniversary if he wasn’t a werewolf? Would he be with Allison? Yeah right, in what universe would Allison Argent want to date him? 

But she... they were friends... friendly with each other these days. He guessed it happened due to his part in trying to save her family, twice, from were- from wolf people attacks, despite being one himself. It kind of makes a girl warm up to you. Plus, Jackson was technically part of Derek’s pack now and he was dating Lydia and she was the best friend of Allison. They (he and Allison) are bound to sit together at lunch (sometimes) with those kinds of connections. Perfectly natural. Perfectly innocent. 

Isaac rubbed his forehead against Scott’s shoulder again. Scott’s hand moved through his hair again. He started sliding his body down. He was about to place kisses on Isaac’s face when the sound of his mother leaving her bedroom was heard. WHAT? She’s suppose to be sound asleep. Scott sat up, pushed Isaac’s arm off of himself, and started to shake the oddly hairless, wolf boy awake, as well as slightly push him off of the bed in case his mother were to walk in. Ever the multitasker, he glanced at his alarm clock as well. Oh, they needed to be in school in half an hour. They should really get up anyway. He shook Isaac harder.

“Mmmmm.”

“Isaac, get up, my mom’s coming.” Scott whispered loudly. Isaac slowly blinked awake. He was now at the edge of the bed as well.

“I live here.”

“Wake up, you know I haven’t discussed”

“Scott, you and Isaac better wake up if you boys want to get to school on time!” His mother yelled from the other side of the door. That got Isaac to roll over in an attempt to sit up. He rolled off the bed. 

“Uhhh... sure thing, Mom!” He turned to Isaac sitting up on the side of his bed. “Are you okay?”

“She knows.”

“If she did, you wouldn’t be allowed in here like this.”

“No, I mean ,I that I live- she doesn’t know we’re dating?”

“Again, if she did, you wouldn’t be allowed in here.”

“You’re just ashamed of me. Of us.” There was a mock pout from Isaac.

“Shut up.” Both knew it wasn’t true. The truth was that Scott didn’t know why he hadn’t told his mother yet. After getting bitten, more and more things got shoved under the, things Mom doesn’t need to know, umbrella. Mom, I’m a werewolf. Mom, I’m dating a guy, who is also a werewolf. Mom, I’m failing Chemistry. Really, he was being a good son by not overwhelming his mother with all of these... overwhelming things. Okay, so he’s got a B in English too. It’s the first class of the day and more often than not he doesn’t actually make it to class on time. Or at all.

Today was no exception. Not only were he and Isaac late to school, but before leaving the house his mother said they needed to have a “talk” when he got home after. See, there _was_ a reason she was out of bed so early. Parents and their sneaky ways. 

Noting interesting happened in English class, which is probably why his has a B. He personally blames the teacher. At least Mr. Harris gives out detentions when you’re not focusing. It’s a great motivator. He knows he should study more too. Stiles is occasionally useful, though they tend to get off topic too often and he’s running out of printer paper. His hands never even made it to his textbook during the few times he had tried studying with Isaac. He could try his mom... but then she would have to know he’s not doing well. Tutor?

He went to his locker, his mind already on what he needed for his next class and if his school had a tutor program when something hanging from his locker’s lock caught his attention. Well. Somethings. There were three candy canes. Ah, was it that day already? Then again, Christmas _is_ next week. A few weeks back, damn, where does the time go... the booster club... or was it the cheer leading squad... some group was selling Candy Grams in the form of candy canes for a dollar (which is really a rip off because a whole box of those things could be bought for a dollar). Buy a candy cane today, leave a name and locker number and have it delivered to said name and locker number... at some point. Some point was apparently today. He remembers buying two for Isaac. Now seeing his three, he thought he should have bought another. But of course, for the three month anniversary. There should be three. 

Then again, who gives candy canes for a three month anniversary? Scott planned to fake complain later. He grabbed the candy and looked at the three little “to; from” cards. Ah, not all from Isaac. In fact, he got one from Isaac, one from Stiles and one from Erica, which is weird because he didn’t think they were that close. Erica, not Stiles. Now he felt like a bad friend and he still planned to fake complain to Isaac, but this time for only receiving one candy cane. 

He made his way over to Isaac’s locker. Isaac had four candy canes in his hand and he was currently looking at the tag attached to one of them. Well, isn’t his man popular. 

“Not to sound like a jealous boyfriend, but who else sent you sugary coated love?” was his greeting. Clearly caught off guard, Isaac looked up, down at Scott, tore off the tag and shoved it in his pocket.

“No one.” was his first answer. “Erica.” was his second. 

“Relax, Babe, I’m not jealous of Erica. She sent me one too.”

“Oh. Good to know.” Scott could still feel the tension. One that wasn’t there this morning.

“Did something happen in class?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sorry to interrupt, Love Birds, actually no I’m not. I just received a Candy Gram from Erica. Now, I know next to nothing about girls besides what I’ve observed of Lydia and and what I’ve gathered from the internet, but isn’t this the equivalent of a “will you date me, check yes or no” type of thing?”

“She gave us one too.” Isaac said dryly. Scott was too amused to talk. His best friend is just so cute sometimes. Now see, he honestly can’t recall if he has ever thought of his friend, or any guy, as “cute” pre-bite. And obviously celebrity ador- admiration doesn’t count.

“Are you okay, Scott, you look confused?” his cute best friend asked. “Oh, and where is _my_ Candy Gram from you, oh best friend of mine?” 

“Scott sent me two.” Isaac gloated. 

“So if I suck your dick, can I get a candy cane?” Stiles directed at Scott. That earned him a raised eyebrow from Danny, who was by his locker, behind them. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know it could be a friend thing too. I mean, didn’t you buy, like, a dozen for Lydia?” Stiles’s reply got cut off by the three minute warning bell sounding off. Isaac and Scott covered their ears. The first bell always shocks his system. He’s got to check his watch more. He’s got to buy a watch. He also promised Stiles he would make it up (the lack of love candy) to him somehow. Stiles pointed out that it was the very least he could do. 

Stiles then complimented Lydia on her looks when they walked by her. Yup, he was back normal. Scott avoided looking at Allison, who stood next to Lydia. Lydia thanked Stiles for the candy, then waited for the boys to pass before turning her attention back to Allison. 

“So just think about it.” She said to her best friend.

“I don’t know how you can date him. He attacked me and he’s not even a kanima anymore.” Allison meant Jackson. She also didn’t answer Lydia’s question as to whether or not she wanted to go to the ice rink after school with her, Jackson, and Danny. 

“Well, if your Dad finds it acceptable to make babies with werewolves, then I don’t see what the problem is with dating one. Besides, it was the full moon. It’s not like he meant to, he doesn’t even remember why he went to your house or how he got there.” In fact, the story he gave Lydia was that the last thing he remembered was being walked home by Derek... and then waking up in Allison's bedroom. Allison knew all this. The only reason the topic was even being brought up again is because she happened to catch the sweet nothings Jackson wrote to Lydia on the tag of her candy cane. 

Allison skipped over the whole “her dad is Jackson’s father” comment. Her Dad told her they (he and Margret) used to date, true. But it was in high school. And Peter never named her dad, he just said “A hunter”. Or maybe she misheard. She should have never had told Lydia any of this anyway, she tended not to sate any of her worries. 

She refocused on the conversation and pointed out that, “So? It was a full moon for Scott too and he didn’t attack me.” to the second part of what Lydia said. Beacon Hills seems to be brimming with werewolves these days. And okay, Margret technically, totally broke into her room first, but she had been running away from the Alpha pack. What was Jackson’s excuse?

“Would you rather me date McCall then?” Based on Allison's reaction, Lydia chose her next words carefully. “See, it’s not that farfetched to want to be with one of them.” It earned Lydia a glare. but she brushed it off with a flip of her hair. “Just think about coming after school, okay? Invite Scott if you want to.”

Scott hadn’t meant to, but he had heard the entire conversation. He was torn. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Allison to invite him or not to... wherever they were going. He tried to push all Allison related thoughts out of his head for the rest of the day. It mainly worked. Avoiding her sort of helped. Not really. To avoid her was to be conscious of her (in order to avoid) and to be conscious of her would be to think of her. 

Maybe he’s over thinking it. It’s an old crush. It’s not the end of the world to think of an old crush, occasionally, at all. This random solar flare must be getting to him, the heat that is. 

Oh, there is a solar flare, or there was, which is why, in the middle of December, it’s, like, 85 degrees out. Everyone was getting snippy today. The heat and the sugar high from the candy lead to the teacher dismissing his class ten minutes early. 

Which is why, while not thinking of Allison, Scott was on his way to Isaac’s classroom. He planned to poke his head in, maybe gesture a “ask to go to the bathroom” at him. How does one express “peeing” with their face and hands? 

He got to the classroom having no idea. He figured a “come here” gesture would do the trick just fine. He peeked in. Isaac was a fairly large guy. He should be easy to spot. But even if he was Lydia sized, as soon as Scott peeked in, he knew he wouldn’t find his boyfriend. Wolf senses and all. There were no muffins in that classroom. There was no Isaac. He looked down the hall. He closed his eyes. He’s only really ever had to, or tried to, track a person during the full moon. And under dire circumstances. He sniffed a great sniff. He sneezed a great sneeze. There’s a hell of a lot of chalk dust in school. 

There’s also the faint scent of muffins. Scott walked in one direction, then the other, then back to the original way. The scent got stronger as he went. He kept his ears open as well. Lecture. Lecture. Lecture. Danny thinks Stiles has a cute butt. Gotta share that. Ew, too much information; why do girls feel the need to discuss their menstrual cycles? So gross. 

“...avoiding me, Isaac.” Isaac? His Isaac?

“No I haven’t.” Yup, that’s his oddly sometimes accented voice. Scott sped walked to it. It brought him to a door that he was about to go through, but then his brain fed him the name to the other voice. Jackson. 

“We’ve barely talked in the past couple of months. Not since-” Jackson was pointing out.

“I know.” Isaac did not want to be having this conversation, whatever it would be about. They certainly weren’t going to talk about Jackson’s biological mother, Margret Hale. The others (not gonna list, but everyone who was there, and lived through that night) decided it may be in Jackson’s best interest if he doesn’t know he has a powerful, Alpha mother. Or that other wolves may try to kill her, and then him, to get their power. Basically, they were afraid that he would do something stupid, like seek her out, if he knew.

Isaac also knew that they had to talk. Talk about other, more intimate, things. It was inevitable. Obviously, Jackson felt the same. Though to write to meet up at 1:45 on the tag of a candy cane was a bit on the dramatic side, even for Jackson. Still, here Isaac was. 

“Plus, I’m a part of Derek’s pack too, you know.” 

“I know. And you’re welcome to join us on the full moon. I’ve told you that.” And he has. Derek has been complaining the last two moons about having to go out to check on “his” beta. 

“Yeah, and there’s no way I’m spending the night in some dirty train. You should come to my house. My bed is-”

“I don’t want to be in your bed.” 

“Is that how you really feel?” Yes. 

“Yes.” Jackson’s face hardened.

“What’s changed? Besides the obvious.” Jackson stepped forward. “Are you telling me you find me less attractive now that I can grow hair on my cheeks and make cock sucking a dangerous endeavor?” Isaac couldn’t help matching Jackson’s smirk. It’s hard not to cater to the first guy that ever paid him any attention. This is when, oddly, the very air began to smell like butter, like Scott. Even his senses wanted him to feel guilty for being here. He looked down.

“I’m with Scott.”

“So I’ve heard.” Head tilt. “Were you already with him when we kissed that day in my room?” And there goes the head snap. Not that he should even be remotely surprised. This turn in the conversation is the very reason he has been avoiding... not speaking to Jackson any more than he has to/Derek makes him. “Well, were you?” 

“Yes.” Hands become fists. “But that doesn’t change my answer. And you kissed me, not the other way around. I’m with Scott now. Only Scott.”... At least, he should have said that last bit, that, after the “yes”, bit. But he didn’t. Excuses never lead to anything good. His father taught him that. “But it won’t happen again.” It what he really said out loud.

“I can’t accept that. I don’t believe that.”

“Why the hell not?” Did he just hear someone snort over by the classroom door? Focus, Isaac, stay in the moment.

“Because I know you. Look, I know I messed up before, that I need to start taking better care of those I care about. I just, I just want another chance to. I need another chance to.”

“I’m with Scott.” 

“You can be with me too. Come on, I need you.”

“I don’t believe that.” Damn the matching smirks again. 

“You can tell, can’t you? You can tell if I’m lying, right?”

“Yes, I can tell.” That “yes” was harder, scarier to say than the first one. Did Scott need him? He knows Scott wants him. And he wants Scott. He has Scott. No. No. No doubts. Don’t be taken in by his sweet promises and his devil - done- good body. He made the right decision when he chose to be with Scott... Right?

“So you know I’m not lying. I want to be with you, Isaac. I’ll treat you better. I swear.” Another face popped into Isaac’s mind. He shook his head.

“You should treat _her_ better.”

“Who?”

“Exactly.” Feeling that he had nothing left to say, that there was nothing more he wanted to hear, needed to hear, he turned to leave and then did just that. Jackson called after him, but he didn’t follow. 

The empty hallway still smelled like butter, and Isaac was glad for it. 

 

Scott was glad for Stiles. For having him as his best friend. He asked if Scott was okay. And when Scott said it “was nothing”, even though they both knew that was a lie, Stiles didn’t question him any further. He’s the best. Speaking of questioning... he’s suppose to have a “talk” with his mother after school. At this rate, he would be crying his pain into her shirt if they talked anytime soon.... So...it is a good thing that parents know that teenagers have a propensity to forget things. Now to find a reason to not go home. 

“Hey, it’s been a while since we’ve hung out, right?” Scott started.

“We hung out yesterday.” Stiles pointed out. 

“Yeah, but that was to do, like, homework and other home activities. I mean, to like, go out somewhere.”

“Are you asking me out on a date, Scott McCall? What will Isaac think?” Stiles dramatically touched his chest. 

“I don’t think he’ll mind.” Scott said flatly. Stiles took it as Scott being exasperated with his antics. It’s not like he hasn’t made about five dozen “you’re suddenly gay” jokes over the past two or three months. They mainly revolve around the theme of him never having known or realized that Allison looked so mannish, slash, that Isaac would make a pretty girl. Okay, so they have reached the “dating Isaac” joke limit. Still...

“Hey, some people think I’m hot... I’m sure.” They reached Scott’s mom’s car. Even if Scott avoided his mom all afternoon, he did need to bring the car back. It will never be his car. Scott either has to buy his own car, or, like he wants to, buy a motorbike, which Mom says will happen as soon as she starts shaving her legs daily again. Scott is saving up for a motorbike and female razors. 

“Danny thinks you have a cute ass.” Stiles paused by his jeep, which was parked next to Scott’s Mom’s car. 

“Oh really? When did he say this? You know his last boyfriend kind of looked like me.”

“I heard it today. Look, I need to drop my mom’s car off at home, but then we should go do something.” Scott got his keys out.

“Aren’t we going to wait for Isaac?” After hearing he kissed another man? Kissed Jackson? No, he will not wait. They were probably making out right now. He should have barged in there. He left because he couldn’t stand Jackson’s pleading, and Isaac not telling him to shut up. 

If he had barged in, then he wouldn’t have to deal with the awkward moment that was about to take place; Isaac was on his way over. He smelled... content. He was humming. What did that mean? Humming because he’s happy he finally told Jackson off, or humming because he just sucked face with the guy?

“I can take him to Derek’s.” Stiles offered. He didn’t need wolf senses to pick up the cause behind Scott’s weird behavior. It was also a big clue that he and Isaac weren’t already kissing against Scott’s (mom’s) car as per usual. 

“Why do I need to go to my Derek’s?” Isaac asked as he approached them. “Did he call?” He added as he pulled out his own phone.

Scott answered. “No... it’s just... I want to go to the skating rink... I mean, I think Derek, your pack, you guys should do things together, you know, besides tie each other up during the full moon nights.”

“You want Derek to go skating?” Scott’s been out of lying practice (authority figures excluded), what with always being around people who can detect that kind of thing. 

“Okay, no... but I feel bad for not sending candy canes to Stiles or Erica, and so I think we should do something... and I just figured...”

Stiles jumped in, “I agree. I, personally, am hurt by the lack of candy love this morning and I was hoping for a one on one date with my Scott to make up for it, but this group idea... might be fun.” 

“Your Scott?” of course that’s what Isaac picked up on. 

“If you’re jealous, you should just ditch Derek and join Scott’s pack. And do we have to invite Derek?” Stiles had no idea why Scott was, going by his body language, at odds with Isaac, especially since Isaac wasn’t acting any different. But if his favorite wolf thinks it can be fixed with a group date, so be it. Ah, the things best friends have to put up with. 

“He might get offended if we don’t.” Isaac pointed out.

“Well, he doesn’t have to know.”

“He already does.” Isaac then nodded his head and looked behind Stiles. Stiles turned and, sure enough, there was Derek, standing at the edge of the parking lot, by his car, staring at them. Erica was leaning next to him against the car. 

“Oh yeah, this is going to be butt loads of fun.”

 

When it was all sorted out, Scott went to go drop off his mom’s car. Stiles went to follow and be Scott’s new ride. And Isaac had been selected to go discuss the plan with Derek. The selling point would be that it was too hott, on the technically winter day, to do anything outside. Derek’s attire barely changed with the seasons (Stiles noted that Derek only owns a handful, five he’s seen so far, different outfits) and so he doubted it would, and hoped it wouldn’t, work. 

On the way to the rink with Scott, Scott finally cracked. 

“He kissed Jackson?” Stiles, for one, is stunned. 

“That’s what he said, what they said.”

“And then what?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, they used to go out, or whatever... was it like... a kiss goodbye, a drunken kiss, who kissed who? What did Isaac say when you confronted him?” A look was shared. “Dude, you’re going ice skating with your boyfriend instead of confronting him about kissing some other dude? Is this the gay way of avoiding a situation?”

“I just don’t know what to say to him right now.”

“And you think hanging out with him will help? Don’t you think he’s gonna notice you’re not all... over him like you usually are? I noticed.”

“You notice everything.”

“True, except the fact that Danny has been checking out my ass.”

“I knew we’d somehow get back to that.”

“So what did he say, exactly? Where did you hear it and when? Who was he talking to? Was I in the room?” Scott bemusedly tried to answer all of his questions, but he wasn’t that interested in the conversation. In fact, his mind was still replaying another conversation, the one he hadn’t been a part of. 

 

Isaac wasn’t that interested in the grumbling his Derek was doing, he was much too focused on analyzing Scott’s strange behavior back at the school parking lot. Could he smell Jackson on him? So what if he could; they walked the same halls, had some of the same classes. They had been standing far apart. It wasn’t like he really had his scent _on_ him. Did he? Isaac tried to think back to this morning and he couldn’t recall Scott doing or saying anything unusual. Maybe it was just the heat, or something happened in one of his classes. Scott is always saying that Isaac needs to stop assuming that he is the cause to someone’s upset or angry mood. Another old lesson from his father. 

“Just so we’re clear, I’m not skating.” his Derek stated. And it’s back to real time.

“I think it’s sweet. I don’t know why Scott doesn’t just join our pack.” Erica wondered from the passenger seat. Derek was complaining and driving; and Isaac was lamenting from the back seat. The car might as well have its own cloud over it. 

“He doesn’t want to.” His Derek grumbled, he then openly stared at Isaac as if it had been his job to recruit Scott after Peter’s death; and he failed. 

“Do I smell any different to either of you?” A long silence followed. So that hadn’t come out as casually as Isaac had hoped for. 

“You smell nervous, what’s on your mind?” his Derek eventually asked. Though he trusted his Derek, he still wasn’t the kind of guy Isaac felt comfortable sharing things with. If he gets attacked or threatened, sure, his Sc- his Derek’s the first to know. But what would he say here? Hey, you know that other guy in our pack, that guy that almost killed us all as a lizard monster and is sort of related to you? Yeah, we... we were once... gosh, he doesn’t even know what he and Jackson were over the summer... or now.

“It’s nothing... just not a huge fan of skating, I guess.” He really didn’t care if his Derek believed him or not. The truth was never coming out. Erica tried to fill the silence gap with talk of school and things. Though even as she talked, she could tell she was talking to herself. Men; such emotional infants. Oh yeah, they were going to have a _great_ afternoon.

 

They were going to have such a fun time, Stiles thought. He really felt the opposite. He was about to enter a staking rink containing two, soon to be fighting, lovers, an overly sexualized Erica, and Derek. Why don’t they just call up Chris Argent and the other hunters and see if they wanted to join too?

Scott didn’t even wait for the others to arrive, so it was up to Stiles to greet them, show them where the right entrance was, mock Derek for being too afraid to skate, and get punched in the arm. He was about to point out where the skates where located when all three wolf people looked up and beyond Stiles.

“What do you-” 

“Scott!” Isaac yelled as he ran passed Stiles.

“Lydia.” Derek said as he ran passed Stiles. Erica ran passed Stiles. His brain caught up with the action in time to follow the group, though by that time, they were already on the ice and heading toward another group of people. He then tried to run faster when he actually saw what was happening. Scott was on top of Jackson, raising his fists and bringing each one down on Jackson’s face and chest and then repeating the hits. Allison tried to get closer, but Scott growled at her. In the moment, Jackson used the opening to punch Scott in the stomach and push him to the side. By this point, Derek and Erica had almost reached them. Isaac was in the lead. It was hard to move quickly on the ice. Stiles found this out after his third fall.

 

Scott’s shoulder hit the ice after Jackson pushed him off. Then he made the mistake of trying to pin Scott. Scott rolled onto his back and brought his legs up as Jackson came down on him. Scott’s feet caught Jackson’s chest and he kicked out. He kicked Jackson a few feet away. Allison was now holding some kind of knife, Lydia was scurrying to where Jackson landed, Erica yelled out to Scott and Derek growled. Isaac made it to him first. Scott stood up and advanced toward Jackson, who was already standing up again. Derek changed his direction and moved toward Jackson. Isaac wrapped his arms around Scott’s back and chest. So Scott tried to pull Isaac off, but he clung on, threatening to have them both fall if Scott kept jerking around. Scott stilled, glared, and tried the diplomatic approach. 

“Let me go.”

“No.” Derek put a hand up to Jackson, effectively getting him to stop his side of the attack But he couldn’t stop the outrage. 

“That guy’s a nutbag, Derek, this is the second time he’s tried to kill me! I’m getting a restraining order; my dad’s a lawyer!” Scott struggled again against Isaac. They both fell down. 

“Jackson, shut up.” Derek turned to Scott, who sat up. “Scott, will you please explain to me why you felt the need to attack Jackson, again?” Scott opened his mouth, though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to say.

“It’s my fault.” Isaac quickly confessed. All eyes turned to him. Most were confused, a couple understood, and Scott looked like he was going to punch him next. But he didn’t. Instead, he stood up and started walking away from everybody. An old couple who had stopped skating once the fight broke out, scuttled over to the wall as Scott walked passed them. Derek still looked to Isaac to elaborate. It was hard, but Isaac ignored his Alpha and got up. He starting walking after Scott. “Scott.”

“Isaac, come here.” Derek commanded. He was ignored. Betas these days. He looked around at the remaining teenagers. “Does anyone know what the hell is going on?” He mainly looked to Jackson, who just reiterated that Scott was insane. Stiles wouldn’t look him in the eyes. So he walked right up to him. “What do you know?” Still with the commanding tone. 

Stiles looked around. It really wasn’t his place, nor did he want to, to air Scott’s drama, but it didn’t look like Jackson was going to say anything, and that Derek wasn’t going to take silence for an answer. He leaned into Derek. Derek leaned back, away.

“You can whisper from where you are.” Right, wolf hearing, Stiles totally didn’t forget.

Stiles leaned back into his original position and whispered, “It’s relationship stuff, between Scott and Isaac.”

“What does that have to do with Jackson?” He asked in a low voice.

“Do you really want to know?” Stiles then widened his eyes, hoping to relate the message that this was personal, sex related material that they were discussing. The eye thing should do the trick. “We’re teenagers.” He added, just in case the eye thing did not do the trick. Understanding filled Derek’s eyes, and then pure annoyance did. 

“This is ridiculous. I’m going home.” Alpha Derek does not mediate teen dramas. Nope.

“But we just got here.” Erica complained. Derek ignored her and followed in the footsteps of the perturbed teens. 

 

Scott made it out of the rink, where he ran into Danny coming out of the bathroom. They exchanged friendly enough greetings (Danny’s leg is in a much smaller cast now, no crutches needed). Greetings Scott heard echoed as Danny and Isaac passed each other. Of course he wouldn’t be so lucky to be able to run away from his problems. He forced himself to calm down.

“I wouldn’t have killed him.” He said as soon as Isaac came into view.

“I know.” Isaac stopped about a foot away. 

“I just wanted to hurt him.”

“He looked pretty hurt to me.”

“I kind of want to hurt you too.” Or make him submit, leave Derek, MINE, etceteras. Isaac’s eyes shifted from the wall to Scott and back again. His mouth open and shut a couple of times.

He then softly got out, “I’m sorry.” Scott closed his eyes. He hadn’t been quite ready to hear it out loud. Then again, would he ever be ready? The answer is he better be because this was happening; his boyfriend kissed another man and now they were going to talk about it. 

Now would be a great time for a, for any, murder loving, Alpha wolf person to attack them. He could hope.

“It meant nothing.” Isaac added. Hope dashed.

“It meant something to you, he means something to you. You don’t think I can feel that?”

“It won’t happen again. Ever. I swear.”

“How can I be sure of that?” how could he be sure of anything? Here he thought _he_ was being a mediocre boyfriend. Isaac stepped forward, into Scott’s space.

“Look at me.” He took Scott’s face in his hands. Scott let him. “You can tell I’m not lying. Hear me. Hear my heart.” Isaac then remained silent so his body could do the talking. His heart was racing. It didn’t aid him in making him appear “truthful”, just panicked. Scott put his hands over Isaac’s. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions. He has seen Isaac with Jackson before, maybe Jackson manipulated him into doing it, through guilt or fear or drunkenness or something. 

“Okay, calm down, I hear you.” 

“Please, don’t leave me.” 

“I didn’t say anything about leaving you.” How did fighting with Isaac about something he did wrong somehow make Scott feel bad? There’s nothing wrong with him getting angry about this. And he was still angry. Whatever the reason for the kiss was, Isaac still consciously kept it from him. “Look, let’s just drop it for now, alright.”

“Do you forgive me? Can you?”

“No... I don’t know... I can’t right now.” Isaac let him go, their hands separated. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid of this.”

“Then you shouldn’t have done it.” Isaac nodded. This is the part where the scene usually cuts to something else. All the essential parts of the conversation have been said. 

“I really am sorry.” Scott’s life isn’t a TV show.

“I know.” And sometimes it downright sucks.

“What happens now?” 

“I don’t know.” was it wrong that some part of him wanted to kiss Isaac right now, just to prove he could? “Let’s just go back to the others.”

“Okay.” TV show or not, his life is filled with lots of horror. And the scream that Scott would have preferred to hear sooner, if at all, rang out. Scott and Isaac exchanged a “did you hear that too?” look, and then they ran back to the ice rink. 

Scott was expecting to see some more wolf on wolf action, or maybe Allison had decided to do something with her knife. What he saw was everyone huddled around by the edge of the rink, someone was laying on the ground. Scott and Isaac made their way over. Stiles spotted them and moved backed so they could see. Derek was on the ground with an old man in his arms. The man’s shirt was drenched in grayish water. An old lady was crying near them. A wet Jackson sitting in the embrace of Lydia was near them too. Allison was on the phone telling someone where they were. The rest were standing around. The man in Derek’s arms was gagging, choking, and he was spitting up blackish water. Derek tiled him over and he immediately vomited streams of it. It wouldn’t stop coming out. 

There was frantic talking everywhere.

“Lydia, what did you do to Jackson?” Stiles asked her.

“I don’t know?”

“How did you make the water stop?”

“I don’t know!”

“The ambulance and police are on their way.” Allison announced.

“Shouldn’t you perform mouth to mouth?” Stiles asked Derek.

“I don’t think his mouth should touch that stuff.” Danny said.

“What is that stuff? Erica asked.

“Okay then, just repeat exactly what you did to Jackson and do it to the man.” Stiles commanded to Lydia.

“I didn’t do anything!”

“You did something; he’s fine, he’s not” Stiles pointed to Jackson and the old man respectively. 

“Will you both shut up.” Derek demanded.

“What happened?” Scott asked, perhaps a bit too late. 

“He’s dying.” The statement from Isaac made everyone, but the crying old woman, silent. But it wasn’t silent. There was a voice in the air. Scott, and maybe some of the others, could hear it. Scott distinctly heard the phrase “he must die”. Heads were turning to find the source. 

“Did anyone hear that?” Stiles asked. A couple of seconds later, the old man’s body went still. And the wolves in the room could now hear the sirens getting closer.


	16. Double Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and the gang become detectives. Awkward situations and conversations ensue. Someone gets wet. And people die.

Along with the ambulance, two officers of the law arrived at the skating rink. Everyone was questioned. Everyone had the same story. Details of the murder would end up being kept out of the newspapers. The town would learn what happened later, the facts delayed. This was due to how close to the Christmas holiday the incident was. So, dying of “unknown causes” were the words used in the evening news reports. Then again, even with all of the watery details, it still left the exact cause of what killed that man to be unknown. The fact of it was he had drowned while laying in the middle of an ice rink, surrounded by his wife and a group of teenagers. There wasn’t even a small crack in the ice.

Jackson, understandably had wanted to leave right away, and did not want to leave Lydia’s side. Even though she insisted she did nothing, Jackson and Stiles were unconvinced. She argued that it wasn’t her, but Jackson, who was somehow immune or able to resist being drowned. Stiles concluded that they would have to agree to disagree. Scott thought this water-thing mystery needed to be solved before someone else got hurt or died. Everyone agreed. Scott suggested they work together, all of them. No one agreed. Stiles said Scott had filled his hero quota for the year, and that they should leave this mystery to the professionals.

“What professionals? The cops?”

“Hey, don’t be putting down our law enforcement.”

“Can we, at least, continue this conversation outside, where it’s warmer.” Lydia complained. 

“And do you,” Scott still directed at Stiles, “want to wait around until it tries to kill Jackson again?” Wow, Scott really must have a hero complex if he is suddenly concerned for the well-being of the guy he wanted to pound into oblivion less than an hour ago. In his defense, that hadn’t been the plan when he had entered the ice rink (the pounding bit), or even when he had spotted Jackson (though to be honest, he noticed Allison first). It was that damn smile. It was like Jackson knew that Scott knew what he and Isaac did, and now he was gloating about it. Okay, he could have been grinning at something Lydia had said for all he knew, but in that instance, Scott only saw that grin, and red, literally. 

Back to now, even Derek was surprised by his statement, by his concern for Jackson. 

“I agree; we need to stop this thing ourselves.” Another miracle: Jackson was on Scott’s side. 

“And what, exactly, are we planning to do?” Isaac asked a very reasonable question. For all his bravado, Scott didn’t have an actual plan of action. 

Lydia sighed, “Clearly, we have to find out everything there is to know about the past murders and try to ascertain some sort of pattern. If we can find out what the victims had or have in common, we can narrow down the list of things that kill with such a motive.”

And thus a plan was set. Well. It took more words than that to get everyone to agree that this was not only something that needed to be done, but needed to be done as a group effort. Since it was originally Scott’s idea, the main bulk of the research would be (via many votes) done at his house. And since there was still too many people that did not want to work together, it was agreed that they would spilt up. One small team would go to the library and another to the hospital to get the past victims’ records. Lydia also wanted to have Jackson checked out at the hospital in case he still had water in his lungs. Isaac then asked reasonable question number two of who goes where. Everyone looked at and to Scott for the answer. 

Scott had no idea. He ended up going on instinct; he made quick decisions. He hoped that he wasn’t pairing people up that would cause more violence to break out. “Okay,” he started, “Lydia, Jackson and Danny go to the hospital.” They all get along. “Allison, Erica and... Isaac, you guys head to the library.” He hoped they would get along. Just because he was getting along with Allison these days, doesn’t mean she now liked the others. Maybe Erica should go somewhere else...

He also didn’t want to deal with Isaac right now. If he was given more time to think it over, he would have shifted the groups a bit. In the moment, he had yet to see the problem with being left with Stiles and Derek.   
Derek refused to give up the keys to his car (team Allison would be without a car if he didn’t). This led to everyone complaining at and to Derek. This led to Scott sitting in the back of Stiles’s jeep with a miffed Derek and an antsy Stiles, who accused Scott of “torturing him on purpose”. And that by throwing himself recklessly at a new problem, he wasn’t going to make his issues with Isaac go away.

Scott could now see the problem with being left with Derek and Stiles.

“It’s not like” Stiles continued to grouse as he started his jeep, “I’m the one that cheated on you. At least Isaac likes Derek, no offense.”

“He didn’t cheat, he just...” Scott reached for words.

“Kissed him under some mistletoe? Seriously, what actually happened? Did you talk to him after you stormed off?”

“Wait, Isaac _kissed_ Jackson? That’s it? That’s what you’ve been fighting about?”

“What else would we fight about?” 

Stiles butt in, though he was the one that started the conversation. He informed Derek that, “Yeah, along with turning them into wanna be killers, your bite also makes people gay.”

“The bite. can’t. turn. people. gay.” Derek said slowly, as if explaining to a child.

“Tell that to the once, Allison loving, Scott.”

“And to answer your question, Scott, before this idiot made it sound like something pornographic had happened between Isaac and Jackson, I thought any problems between you two would be due to what happened to Isaac’s father. He’s still upset about that. The nights he sleeps at home haven’t been restful.” 

“You realize you’re suggesting there is restful sleep in a subway car, right? And what ever happened to Isaac’s dad? Did they ever find him? Or pieces of him? I don’t remember Dad saying anything about it.”

“You didn’t tell him?” Derek directed at Scott. “Keep your eyes on the road.” He directed at Stiles. 

 

Erica had a hard time keeping her eyes on the road. Every cell in her body was telling her to be weary of Allison Argent, who was sitting beside her (which is safer than having her sitting behind her). Mr. Antisocial, in the back seat, wasn’t helping her ease her mind either. 

“Did you and Scott fight, or something?” She finally asked him. Erica also wondered what she had done to make Scott mad enough to put her in a car with these two. At least, Isaac had begun the school day happy. Then again, the boy flips through emotions faster than a remote flips through channels. It’s hard to keep track.

“No. Why?” Asked a female voice.

“Not you, Princess, I’m talking to Isaac.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” came from the male voice.

“Fantastic.” Erica faked smiled. This was going to be a long trip to the library. 

 

This was going to be a long drive to Scott’s house. Derek could feel it. Ever since his uncle’s death, he has taken the role of head of the Hale Pack. However, as the days and weeks went on, he began to feel more and more disconnected from his pack members. It didn’t help that Erica was the only one that would physically check in with him at the train station during the day and spent most of her nights there. Isaac and Jackson phoned in. Isaac also didn’t attend training sessions anymore. He claims he tends to “learn” more from Scott. Right, like Derek didn’t perfectly well know what that meant. He did. He believed he had more important things to teach. It’s not like a hunter is going to come up and ask Isaac to suck- 

“Do you want me to tell you everything I do with Isaac?” Scott quipped, skirting Stiles’s questions about Isaac’s dad. 

“That depends,”

“No.” Derek interjected.

“On what Isaac’s dad has to do with it.” Stiles finished as he raised one eyebrow and lowered the other. 

“Eyes on the road.”

“Relax, I’ve driven on these roads hundreds of times.”

“There could be black ice that hasn’t fully melted yet on these roads.”

“In this heat wave? Anyway, I know how to drive in the winter, even when it’s sunny out.” Stiles took his hands off of the wheel. “See.” Derek latched onto the wheel with one hand and got ready to yell. Scott was relieved they were off the “Mr. Lahey” topic.

 

Danny tried to think of a topic to bring up with Ms. McCall, one that would distract her long enough to let him use the computer. Lydia was off with Jackson, who had doctors checking on him. Naturally, being the computer hacking, best friend, he had been sent to retrieve the files on the past drowning victims. 

Unfortunately, Ms. McCall was not sitting at the nurse’s station where she usually is. Was she not scheduled to work this evening? He really didn’t want to try to charm some stranger nurse. Luckily for him, and unlucky for someone else, a light flashed on some machine and the nurse hurried away. Danny quickly hurried to the computer. His fingers flew over the keys. He had a basic idea of what he was looking for, he also knew whatever he needed would be password protected. Sure enough, when he found the “patient files” section, it asked for a password to continue on. This is when Danny’s fingers moved the fastest. 

Bypassing and creating codes is a lot easier than thinking about the person he saw die today. Don’t think. Just type.

“Can I help you?” 

“Nah, I got it.” His fingers stopped. “Ah, hello, Ms. McCall, it’s nice to see you again.” 

“Likewise, mind explaining what you are doing.”

“Not really.”

“Excuse me?”

“What if... what if I said I really needed some information to help save future lives?” Melissa shifted from one foot to the next. She should probably get fired for this. 

“Okay, you say you want information, well, I want information too. Understand?” 

“Uhh..what do you want to know?” She leaned forward.

“Tell me why Scott won’t tell me that he’s dating Isaac Lahey, whose name, by the way, I had to get out of a yearbook. But besides that, do you know where my son is right now?”

“Uhhh... probably on his way home right now.”

“Really? Because he was suppose to be home hours ago.”

“Oh... well this might be a bad time to mention it, but myself, Isaac, and a few others have been invited to your house for later this evening. I hope you don’t mind.” He really drew the short straw of this team mission.

“Are you telling me that he thinks he’s having friends over? That he’s actually allowed after...” For months, Melissa has had to watch another boy sneaking in and out of her son’s room. Once, she purposely caught him coming out of the bathroom, and only then did he give her his name (but by then she had already looked it up). She told him that he could start using the front door instead of Scott’s window. She can now catch him and her son in the kitchen or living room of the house. “Catch” is the key word. She lost count how many times she has walked into a room, only to see them, not so subtly, jump apart. Lately, all she could do was silently support her son, and randomly refuse sleep-overs. She had been hoping to change all that with a talk. Today (hours ago). “Fine, but no one is sleeping over, you tell him I said that.”

“Yes, Ms. McCall... so can I...?” Danny pointed to the computer. 

“Fine, just make it fast. Do I seem like the kind of mother who wouldn’t let her son date? I mean, I had boyfriends in high school... though maybe those aren’t the best examples... and they just started dating, it’s not like we need to have the talk, right...” Danny let Ms. McCall ramble away as he located and then sent himself the files he needed. An MIT student wishes.

 

“Do that again, and I’m driving.” Derek needed to relax. Between him and Scott, Stiles felt like running his jeep into a tree just on principle.

“Hell no, no one drives my baby but me, and sometimes Scott.” Scott gave a small, pathetic smile. Screw the tree, Stiles will run Isaac over the first chance he gets. 

“Now you are just tempting me to do it.” And then there is this guy.

“Dude, I would rather have you kiss me than have you drive my jeep. Let it go.” He could feel Scott’s eyes roll. Maybe he was laying the gay jokes, and the sex jokes, and the gay sex jokes. on a bit too thickly as of late.

“You want me to kiss you?”

“Huh? What? No. Forget it, lately, all the gay drama has been straight, has been making it harder just to think straight. No. Wait, yes. Yes. I mean that.” Why is he getting all flustered; it’s just Derek...well... honestly... lately, with or without all the gay drama, Stiles has been having certain thoughts pertaining to Derek. Certain-

“Okay. That really doesn’t answer my question.”

“I have a question.” Scott piped in. Well, at least now he didn’t look like someone kicked his puppy. Still, Scott’s question would have to wait until after Stiles asked his.

“How did we even get on this topic? We were talking about-”

“Your inability to drive is how we got on this topic.” Derek so rudely interrupted.

“Yeah, well... your inability to be happy is.... just... so, would you want to kiss me?” Since the topic is out there already, they might as well fully cover it. Derek stared at him. He stared back.

“LOOK AT THE ROAD!” 

Scott still wanted to ask what it would take to get them to shut up. He also wanted to just be home already.

 

The library gang was the last to show up at Scott’s house. It didn’t help that while there, they hadn’t been entirely sure what kind of books they should be looking for or checking out. Magic? Mythos on water? Vengeful spirits of the drowned? A history of the Beacon Hills water system? Plumbing mishaps gone horribly wrong? They took a little bit of everything. Allison favored a book about Native American lore that cited a belief that the human spirit can be reborn into the form of other earthly things such as trees and rivers. She decided on most of the selections. Erica flirted with a male librarian. Isaac carried most of the books. 

Isaac still had a large collection of books in his arms when he entered Scott’s house. Erica headed straight for the stairs, following the voices of the others. As the voices got louder, Isaac wanted nothing more than to drop the books off and hide in the kitchen. It was a little past dinner time anyway. 

“Maybe it just hasn’t had an opportunity to get to him yet.” Stiles was saying. Currently, they were going with the idea that they were dealing with the angry spirit of someone who had drowned and he or she now doing the same thing to others. It was the identity of the spirit that they, the occupants of the house minus the library team, were currently debating. In the past twenty years, three people have died due to drowning in Beacon Hills. There was a three year old in a bathtub, in the 60s, an eleven year old who drowned in a neighbor’s pool about five years ago, and a woman who was found dead in the pond a few miles from the school... and that was twenty years ago. Stiles had his money on the pool boy, since it was the most recent and... the boy had drown, according to the police report, in the Lahey’s pool (a little detail most parents, including his own father, had apparently left out when telling their children about the death of their classmate).

It was also why everyone went silent when Erica, followed by Isaac, followed by Allison, walked into Scott’s room. Isaac wondered if it would look natural if he made a run for Scott’s bathroom now. He took a few steps in that direction.

“Relax, it’s just us.” Erica said as she sat down next to Stiles on Scott’s bed. Scott was refusing to even look at Isaac now. Which Isaac could understand. He couldn’t understand why the others were avoiding meeting his gaze. He was almost at the bathroom, but he still had to do something about the damn books. 

“Isaac, why don’t you have a seat.” His Derek got up from the computer chair and walked over to Isaac, relieving him of the books. He put them on the floor, then, with a hand to Isaac’s back, he led him (away from the temporary sanctuary of the bathroom) to the computer chair. Was he about to get lectured? Now really wasn’t the time to be discussing his and Scott’s relationship issues; they were trying to put an end to a killing spree. 

“What’s wrong?” His Derek finally looked at him and gave a small smile. So he wasn’t in trouble. But instead of an answer, his Derek looked around at the others. 

“Isaac, what do you remember about the death of Matt Daehler?” What? Why were they asking about Matt? Isaac asked just that, but instead of answering, Scott asked Isaac to tell everyone what he remembered from “that night”. Isaac looked around. They were serious; they wanted to know about something he hasn’t thought about in years. Isaac wondered how many years it will take before he can stop thinking about all the horrible things that have happened in the past few months. “Isaac?” Right, Matt. Isaac took a few more moments to gather his thoughts.

Then he said while looking at his shoes and shaking his head, “I wasn’t even there when it happened. I was in my room. How do you guys even know that? Which pool he was in was suppose to be kept out of the papers.” That is what his father told him. Their family name was to be kept out of the papers in order to protect the young boys who lived there from getting harassed with questions by classmates and nosy neighbors. 

Stiles then told him about the confidential police report they found. He also chipped in that, being the most recent downing (besides all the magic waterless ones), Matt was their best bet for being the vengeful spirit behind the attacks. 

“But why would he be attacking now?”

“Good point.” Scott added. It wasn’t a point, but Isaac felt better now that Scott was looking and speaking to him again, for now. And with kind words too!

“Fine, Scott, if you think it’s the lake girl so much, then why don’t you and...” Derek looked around the room. He had no idea how to split this particular group up. Isaac wished he hadn’t been late to the conversation. Lake girl?

“Scott and I will go to the lake. Isaac, you take Derek to your pool. And Jackson, you and Danny check out the house where that little boy died. If anyone sees anything black and watery, try to capture an image of it with your phones, then get out of there. Got it?” Allison instructed, she even stood straighter. “Is that okay?” she added, softening the commanding tone and sounding more like herself.

“Mam, yes, Mam, and what about the rest of us?” Lydia asked.

“The... rest of you will keep checking the books for other possibilities for what we might be up against.” was Allison’s response. “Also try to find how to destroy what we might be up against now.” That got a couple of nervous laughs. Jackson wondered aloud if they should just postpone the man hunt and do the thorough research part now. Together. Scott then had to sadly remind everyone that the longer they waited, the more people may die. After all, last time this thing attacked, six people died in one night.

Everyone then agreed with Allison’s plan, some more reluctantly than others, except Erica, who didn’t trust Allison alone with Scott. Neither did Isaac, but for different reasons. The whole group descended the stairs. 

 

“So, what, Danny and I just walk up to the house and say, hey, can we see your bathtub?” Jackson remarked. He was one of the reluctant ones. 

“I think saying, hey, our car broke down, can we use your phone and bathroom, will go a lot more smoothly.” Danny reasoned. Jackson remained silent as they made their way to his car. Some best friend he had, not complaining when he is complaining.

 

“It can’t be Matt, I thought I heard whispering at the ice rink. If it’s a ghost, it’s female. ” Isaac was telling his Derek as they made their way to Derek’s car. He was also trying to come up with an excuse to make his Derek be the only one to go check out his pool. He wished his Scott was coming.

“You heard it too?” Scott asked from near Stiles’s jeep. Erica was already hopping into the passenger seat. Isaac looked to Scott and nodded. His gaze held. Derek looked to the sky and pulled Isaac to the car door.

“Yeah, I heard it too, but the voice could have been distorted by that same black water. We should check every possibility.” Derek said, though taking orders from a hunter grated every nerve in his being. Still, it was true, it had sounded like a voice back at the rink. He hadn’t been able to make out any words, if there were any. It was also true that the tone of voice could be deceptive. Stiles thought it was the pool boy, Matt. And Stiles was a smart guy, kid... guy.

 

Stiles’s mind was also on what had occurred at the ice rink. He was also trying to think of a way to engage Lydia in a conversation that didn’t involve magical murders. One minute, Scott’s room was full of people and it was all debate and theories, and now, he was all alone with Lydia. Nuff said. 

“Is there something on my face?” Lydia asked.

“What, no.”

“Then why do you keep staring at me?”

“I like the view?” Lydia flipped her hair.

“That’s sweet, but staring at me won’t help us find this water monster or whatever.”

“You were there when it attacked Jackson for the first time. Was it the exact same thing that we all saw today?”

“Exactly. Black, gravity defying water that just vanishes in an instant; kind of hard to forget.” Stiles nodded as he shifted through a couple more of the victims’ files. Old, young, different occupations, they lived in different parts of town... nothing was the same. There was no pattern.

“Even if we find out what it is, we need to find out how it chooses it’s victims, that way-”

“You mean, besides them all being rich males.” 

“I-” Stiles quickly shifted through the files again. “How--”

“It went after Jackson twice, of course I’ve been paying attention to who the other victims were.”

“But if that’s the pattern, then why hasn’t it gone after Danny?”

“If it’s Matt, maybe he just likes Danny.”

“Everybody does like Danny.”

 

Skip to an hour later, and skipping over more side story and dialogue. Derek and Isaac arrived back at the house (Scott’s house) first. 

As Derek enters Scott’s room, he hears. “Athletes, jerks, these guys have to have something in common.” 

“What do you have against Jackson?”

“Gee, where do I even begin? There’s that time in Kindergarten when he and Danny decided to pants me. But more recently, I have to say it’s how he’s ruining Scott’s relationship with Isaac by kissing Isaac. I’m sorry, but, I’m not sorry, your boyfriend is an all around asshole and you deserve better. You deserve someone perfect, like you are.” 

If they get through this water monster thing, Derek swears he’ll never bite another teenager again. 

“Glad to hear you guys are still focused on trying to catch the thing that almost killed Jackson.” Stiles opened his mouth to respond to Derek, but his phone vibrated at the same time. He pulled it out. Oh dear. His dad was wondering if Stiles knew anything about a recent break in to the department’s online filing system. He said he didn’t. His dad said that the computer said that he, the Sheriff, had logged into the system about an hour ago, which is strange because he hasn’t been near the computer all day. Stiles agreed that it was strange. His dad told him to get down to the station. Now. 

“Great, and now your boyfriend and Danny have gotten me in trouble with my dad.” Stiles said as he hung up his phone.

“What’s wrong? Derek asked. Stiles hadn’t broken into any “online filing system” whatever the hell that was. Derek didn’t hear or see the problem. 

“It’s nothing, I just need to go visit my Dad.” And Scott has his jeep. “Can I borrow your car?”

“No.”

“Dude, just let me borrow your car, I’ll bring it right back.”

“No.” Stiles knew he couldn’t wrestle Derek’s car keys out of wherever he was keeping them, but part of him wanted to try. 

“Then I guess you’re coming with me.” 

 

Jackson and Danny arrived at the house ten minutes later. Scott and the girls arrived twenty minutes after that. Isaac watched from the bedroom window as a wet, coat covered Erica led the way into the house. Lydia and Danny hopped off of Scott’s bed and left the room as they heard Erica open the door. This left Jackson still leaning against Scott’s bathroom door and Isaac still watching Scott out the window. Scott looked up at his window and stopped. 

“Oh my God, what happened to you?” Lydia called down to Erica once she entered.

“Nothing, except these two weren’t brave enough to jump in the lake, so I had to do it.”

“Did you find anything?” Danny asked. Erica glared up at him. Danny backed away as Erica came up the stairs. Allison entered the house next. She told Erica she would make her some hot chocolate, she then called out to Scott, asking where he kept the mugs. She got no answer. Instead, they all heard a loud thump from the second floor. And then the sound of Scott’s voice. 

“Why are you alone with him?” Scott had wanted to see Isaac, just Isaac, when he had jumped onto the roof.

“I’m not, I wasn’t. Lydia and Danny just left.”

“Whoa, calm down, McCall.”

“Shut up, Jackson.” But Scott did calm down. Isaac was telling the truth and Jackson was a bit to happy to have made Scott angry. Scott was having none of it. A new thought came during his third forced, slow breath. “Where’s Stiles?” 

“He left with Derek; they’re at the police station.” Was Isaac’s answer. Scott needed and wanted a nap. He took out his phone instead.

 

Stiles felt his phone vibrate. Scott was calling. He went to answer, he got one look at his father’s face and decided to slip the phone back into his pocket instead. He couldn’t convince Dad that he had nothing to do with the hack in, but the fact that it was known that he was at the last crime scene didn’t help his case. 

“I don’t even know what your password is.” He tried. 

“The computer was hacked, Stiles, the password page was overridden. I may not know how to work your phone, but I know that much about computers.”

“And, clearly, I don’t, so it couldn’t have been me.” Dad fisted his hands. His attention was then drawn to the person behind his son, to the guy was answering his phone. The Sheriff didn’t know what was stranger, that Derek Hale was willingly to be in the police station (it’s not like his family has a great track record) or that he had arrived with Stiles. In fact, every time his son has been at a crime scene, Derek has been too. Stiles turned around to follow his dad’s gaze.

And then the Sheriff remembered something else that he knew about Derek Hale and his son.

“Yeah?” Derek listened to Isaac’s voice on the other end of the phone. He was being told that neither of the other groups had found anything. There was no black water, no cold spots, and nothing to link the people who died in those areas to what was happening now. “What do you mean, she smelled me in the lake?... Fine, is there anything else to report?... Rich males?” Stiles knew he had forgotten to mention something when Derek and Isaac had come back. 

“It was Derek Hale.” And the attention was back on his father.

“Huh? What? No. Derek doesn’t even know how to turn a computer on.”

“He’s the guy I saw jumping out your bedroom window.” Not that he had anything against wolf people, but the Hales weren’t the safest people for his son to be associating with. And he has been (associating), for months, secretly, if the window jumping was anything to go by. Currently, there were issues that were higher on the priority list (drownings), but they were so going to be discussing Stiles’s new found social life later. 

“No, what? You must be confusing him with Scott. They look the same from behind.” Derek got off the phone and looked over at them. 

“Okay, listen up, I want straight answers and I want them now. Do either of you know anything about these drownings?”

“The victims are all rich males.” Derek replied. Stiles’s mouth fell open. “What? The more people trying to catch the guy, the better, right?’ 

“Yeah, if it is a _guy_ >.”

The Sheriff cut back in. “You think the murderer is female? Wait, you knew about this connection and you didn’t tell me?” He directed at his son.

“I was going to. We just discovered the pattern.”

“How?”

“From the victim’s... files...shit.” Shit. His dad is a damn good interrogator. Stiles has always thought so. He said so as he got dragged by the ear into another room. This was going to be a long night.

 

This was going to be a long night, Scott thought. Lydia suggested they order food. He suggested that everyone call their parents so none of them would worry about their whereabouts. Danny had to tell his parents where and when he thought he would be back to his folks. Allison said her dad was out of town for the weekend. Jackson left a message on an answering machine. And Erica said her parents don’t worry about her. The calls reminded Scott of his own mother and the conversation he had successfully avoided with her. Now he wasn’t sure which was worse, if he had had that conversation or spending any more time with all these people. There were too many clashing personalities. And what was taking Stiles so long? Hearing his best friend’s name out loud snapped Scott out of his thoughts.

“Derek wouldn’t do that. He’s a good guy.” Allison just said that Derek probably killed Stiles and that was why they weren’t back yet. Isaac disagreed. The group had moved to the living room. Scott wasn’t ready to forgive Isaac quite yet (it’s only been a few hours since he found out), but that didn’t stop him from feeling possessive enough to sit on the floor in front of the chair that Isaac sat in. 

“If it weren’t for Derek, my mom would still be alive.” Allison stated.

“Margret killed your mother.” Scott pointed out. Hadn’t her dad told her that? 

“She did it to save my father.” So that answers that question. “But she wouldn’t have had to if Derek never turned her.”

“And turning her equals a death sentence to you?” Erica asked her. “If anything, my Derek saved your mom that night. Jackson was out to kill everyone.” Okay, so maybe it’s more than personalities that were clashing. They’ve been on opposite sides of some tough shit.

“Can we please not talk about that.” Jackson pleaded. “Also, who’s Margret?” That put a pause in the argument.

“You’re right, we shouldn’t talk about this.” Scott concluded. He could feel the relief of the others. 

“...Margret... Hale,” Lydia began to say. She had a far away look in her eyes. “She used to live in Beacon Hills. She had an affair with Chris Argent. They secretly dated in high school. Then Gerard tried to kill her.” Most of that Scott didn’t even know, so how, the hell, did Lydia?

“Lydia, how do you know any of that?” Allison voiced the same question. 

“She dreamed it.” Jackson answered for her. “I dreamed it too.” he added. And that made the kind of sense that doesn’t. 

“Is any of that true?” Scott asked Allison.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because it’s your dad we’re talking about.”

 

“My ears are tingling.” Chris Argent announced.

“Maybe somebody’s talking about you.” Margret Hale chimed. 

“Or maybe it’s from when you were sucking on them earlier.” He countered. Margret grinned a wide grin. 

“Sorry, got a bit overexcited. It has been years, you know.” She said as she laid her head down on Chris’s bare chest. Chris looked around the motel room they were in. Four hours ago, he was still on the road, driving to this room. Before that, he woke up from a nap to his phone ringing. Margret simply gave him her location. It took him three hours to cross the state line. Minutes to find the hotel and the hotel room. Seconds to place his arms around Margret as she jumped and secured her legs around his waist. Their lips met in fervent need. During the car ride over, he had spent the time going over all the words he needed to say once he saw her again, only to immediately feel she still felt the same way. 

There was some reexploration of their slightly aged bodies, of their new sensitive areas, of the new noises they could elicit from each other and then some replay of some of the old ones. Everything that was on the bed had made its way to the floor, even Chris’s leg now dangled off the side of it. He body couldn’t cool down, his breath couldn’t slow down; he felt fantastic; he felt young. 

“Really? You certainly fooled me tonight.”

“Please, back in the day, we would be at it again already. Now I need, at least, ten minutes here.” Chris explained. Margret lifted her head up and stared down at him. “Okay, maybe twenty minutes.” She grinned a wicked grin. 

“What if I did all the work this time?” She traced an invisible line down Chris’s chest. 

“No no, please, I’m still too sensitive right now.” Margret spread her fingers out over his stomach. There was a lull that they could have filled with talk of how they have been living for the past sixteen years, or over more recent events or of the near death that had kept them separated or of the conversations that had taken place so long ago and they had yet to finish. Too often, distractions like what had just occurred would get in the way. Neither wanted to look back. Neither wanted to think about the future either. 

In the lull, they held each other tighter. Margret moved up Chris’s body, yearning for another kiss. She paused. A new scent made her pause. The sex haze where even her toes feel warm and glowy was fading, and in the reassessment of her surroundings, this new scent had come though. What made her sit up was the fact that this knew scent wasn’t all that new. In fact, it was quite familiar. 

“What’s-”

“Shhh... get your gun.” Margret mouthed as she slid off the bed. By the time the scent had made it to the hallway outside their door, she was already dressed and Chris had his pants on and his guns loaded. Margret slowly made her way towards the door. Ethan could burst through at any moment. She could handle him alone, but she doubted he would come alone. The fact that she couldn’t smell any other wolves made her very nervous. She wanted Chris to stay behind, but she knew he wouldn’t listen. That made her nervous too. She crept closer to the closed door. She could hear Ethan breathing on the other side. She could hear the breaths of others, but she couldn’t smell them. Who didn't have a smell? Perhaps they were too far away, in the next room, and she was just being paranoid. 

She wasn’t being paranoid when Ethan knocked on her door. Slowly. Twice. He knew she knew. The element of surprise is a lot harder to accomplish when you know where the other person is. Chris moved to the side of the door, up against the wall, ready to fire out as soon as Margret opened it. Margret put her hand on the door handle, about to do just that. They shared a look, one of goodbye and, are you ready, and until next time. Then Margret turned the handle and pulled the door open. 

Chris turned to the open doorway and fired. His bullets slammed into green, scaly flesh. A lizard monster, a kanima, took a step back and his long thick tail came up and it swung its arms at Chris. Chris backed up. The monster moved forward. Margret charged forward, careful to not extend her claws and risk letting the poison within its body touch her. As she pinned it up against the door frame, movement caught the corner of her eye. Before she could turn to it, a clawed hand sunk into her side. It was another kanima.

“NO!” Chris screamed as Margret rigidly slid down to the ground. He started firing again. He needed to reload. In the silence, one kanima stepped forward, into the room, and the other stepped back; Ethan came into view. Chris dropped one gun and he took his knife from his back pocket. He charged and stabbed the closest kanima in the chest. It screamed and stumbled backwards. Ethan stepped over Margret and entered the room and moved to the side. The other monster followed after. It lunged at Chris before he could raise his other gun. Its claws raked down his chest and he fell backwards.

“Stop, Ethan!” Margret begged from the doorway. 

“Would you have stopped for Aiden?” The kanimas stopped their attack on Chris. They watched their master walk toward Margret as he talked. “The last thing he wanted was for you to die and you. Will. Die.” On his final word, Ethan raised his arm and brought it down swiftly across Margret’s throat, a spray of crimson followed his swing. 

A shot rang out. Both kanimas and Ethan fell to the floor. The monsters returned to human forms. Ethan claws retracted and his facial hair retreated. The blood from the bullet embedded into the side of his head remained. 

Chris dragged his own bleeding body over to Margret’s paralyzed one. When he reached her, she looked over. She opened her mouth and more blood gushed from her throat. As the numbness started spreading to his shoulders, Chris reached for her hand and held it. She squeezed back tightly. Then the grip loosened and stilled.

 

The McCall household became deathly still. Allison was glaring at Scott as if he was accusing her of something. Though really, how would she know anything about, or be the cause behind, Lydia and Jackson’s ability to dream of other people’s pasts. 

“Is that even possible? To dream someone’s life?” Lydia asked the obvious question. 

“Maybe Jackson got the memories from Derek when he turned him.” Isaac suggested. That wouldn’t explain how Lydia got them. Also, Scott would also like to note that this is the second time that Isaac has left out the “my” from Derek’s name in one sitting. He wondered what it would take to get it in front of his name.

“And then I must have gotten the memories when Jackson tried to turn me.” Lydia finished. Well that would explain-

“You tried to turn her?” At least Allison was no longer angry with Scott. Scott leaned his head against Isaac’s leg. He tried to ignore Isaac’s hand on his shoulder, which was hard with all the apologies coming through his fingers and digging into Scott’s skin. He didn’t move out from under Isaac’s hold, but the larger boy needed to tone down the feelings. Scott needed to address one crises at a time. Idiot wolf people. Life dreaming humans. Cheating Isaac. People dying by water ghosts. It’s just too much!

“It didn’t work ob-ooo AHHHHHHH!” Jackson suddenly keeled over. Isaac tightened his grip on Scott’s shoulder and Scott reached out and squeezed his wrist. The others shuffled closer to Jackson, who pushed and shoved anyone who tried to touch him. He held his head tightly, and then his grip loosened. He slowly lifted his head. For some reason, he had shifted, so he saw the world in a becoming familiar bright red haze. The only difference this time was one he could not see. He could not see that the eyes he looked out with were also a bright red.


End file.
